They found Rosemary Bracken’s house without any trouble. The yard was mostly dirt and the house was a square box, painted a dull gray, with one lone red petunia in a small pot next to the front door. “Nice landscaping,” Rena said, nodding at the flower. “Doesn’t make me hopeful.”

“My uncle Joe lives in a similar place. Some people are just low-maintenance.”

“Right. If a fifteen-year-old girl comes to the door who answers to Corrine, I’ll remind you that you think this falls within the normal range.” She turned her head to look at the day care across the street. It was a one-story brick-and-frame building. “This is so weird. I know the building doesn’t look like Lakeside Learning Center but the location is similar. On a corner. Open field behind it. Houses. A few small businesses.”

“No psychic,” A.L. said.

“We haven’t met Rosemary yet.”

They got out of the car. Rena knocked on the door. She was just about to knock a second time when it opened. It wasn’t a fifteen-year-old girl but rather a woman, maybe midfifties, wearing black-and-red pajama pants and a faded black T-shirt that appeared to have been washed about three hundred times. “Ms. Bracken?” Rena said.

“Yes.”

“I’m Detective Morgan. This is my partner, Detective McKittridge.” They both held their badges steady while the woman inspected them. “May we come in?”

“Why?” she asked, not moving.

“We’re from the Baywood Police Department, about a hundred miles south of here. We are investigating the disappearance of a five-year-old from her day care. We understand that a similar crime occurred here in Dover about ten years ago and that you lived here at the time.”

While she spoke, Rena closely watched the older woman’s face. But there was no response. Not a blink, a twitch, a gasp, or anything that resembled a normal reaction to hearing that a child was missing. When she was done talking, there was an uncomfortable silence. Then finally, the woman stepped back and motioned for them to have a seat in the living room. There was a couch and one chair. A.L. and Rena both sat on the couch.

“I’m not sure how I can help you.”

“Do you remember the missing child from the day care across the street?” A.L. asked.

“Of course. It was huge news in a town this size. Horrible news.”

She said the last sentence without emotion, as if she might be talking about the price of milk going up. “Did you talk to police at the time?” Rena asked.

“I did. I suspect many of the neighbors did. I believe I got some extra scrutiny because some idiot reported that they saw a child on my couch, watching television.”

“Did that make you angry?” A.L. asked.

The woman shrugged. “It was a waste of everyone’s time. I didn’t like that.”