“Yeah. I know Milo. Not well but he bowls with my dad and my uncle. He’s a good guy and I always got the impression that he ran a pretty good operation. I guess I want his read on whether Elaine could be wrong about something important. In the middle of the night, I remembered the comment Leah made about her mother repeating herself. I guess now I’m wondering if that’s an irritating habit that she’s had her whole life or maybe the woman’s age is catching up to her.”

“She didn’t repeat herself when I talked with her. She seemed pretty with it, considering she’d just heard that her granddaughter was missing. I didn’t get the impression that she’s senile.”

“I guess that’s what we need to ask Milo about.”

“Leah and her mom don’t seem all that close,” Rena said.

“Not everybody is the Morgans.” Rena’s husband’s family was downright clingy in his opinion.

A.L.’s computer dinged. He looked at it. Studied the screen. Motioned for Rena to come have a look. Once she was behind his chair, he pointed to the information that had gotten his attention. “I ordered criminal background checks on Alice Quest, the four teachers, the cook, Troy and Leah Whitman, and Elaine Broadstreet. They all came back clean except this one.”

“Elaine Broadstreet,” Rena read. “Felony possession of a controlled substance and child endangerment. Ninety days of jail and two years’ probation.” She kept reading. “It was almost twenty-five years ago,” she said. She picked up a pad of paper on A.L.’s desk and scribbled down the case file number. “I’ll get somebody to pull this.” She took two steps. Turned. “Does this surprise you?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Might explain the disconnect between Leah and her mom.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of sad. Seems like a time when they really need to be there for one another. It makes me crazy to think that...something like this can happen so fast. That a child could be...lost...just like that.”

“All kinds of dangers in the world,” he said, “but most of the time, we’re able to keep our kids safe. You’ll be able to do that.” Last she’d shared, they’d identified a carrier. Gabe’s sperm, Rena’s eggs. Fertilized in a petri dish and implanted in another woman’s body for a hefty fee.

“I’m not crazy about Shannon. She’s the one. That’s what I was talking to Gabe about earlier.”

“Then why did you pick her?” A.L. asked.

“Gabe knows her. She used to work at the same company but left a couple years ago to have her own kid.”

“But?” A.L. said.