Her words hung in the warm afternoon air. It was a beautiful fall day but Rena felt a chill cross her body. It had been ten years. Was it even possible that someone had taken both little girls?

“We’re on our way to talk to the Antlers,” A.L. said.

Something passed in Brenda’s eyes but she said nothing.

“Do you still see them?” Rena asked.

“No.”

Something wasn’t right. “Dover is pretty small. That probably has to happen.”

“The Antlers have never forgiven me. Once, when I was in the grocery store, I saw Mrs. Antler come in. Our eyes met. She...turned around and left the store. Left her cart right there in the aisle. Guess she couldn’t stand to be in the same place I was.”

“Did you continue to manage the day care?” A.L. asked.

“The day care only stayed open another six months. Then it closed. It was closed for more than six years before somebody else purchased the building and reopened it. I wasn’t interested in trying out for my old job.”

“Where did you work after the day care closed?” Rena asked.

“I didn’t. This is a small community. Everybody knew the story and quite frankly, nobody wanted to hire the woman who lost Corrine Antler.”

Not much to say to that. Rena looked at A.L.

“Have you ever been to Baywood?” A.L. asked.

“No.”

“Know anybody in Baywood?” A.L. came back.

“No. Although I told Alice Quest that I could drive down sometime next week if things weren’t better.”

Was it odd that she was so quick to bond with Alice? Maybe not. She and Alice were an unfortunate minority. “I imagine Alice appreciated that,” Rena said.

“I guess. She’s still in the hopeful stage that the nightmare is going to end. For her sake, I want her to be right.”

Patsy and Greg Antler lived in a two-story house at the edge of town. The paint was fresh, the leaves were raked, and while it was way too early, there were pumpkins flanking the front door. While they waited for their knock to be answered, A.L. thought about all the damn pumpkins he’d carved over the years with Traci. How excited she’d been when she’d finally been able to hold the knife and cut on her own.

Little steps toward independence.

Memories.

When the door swung open, he was surprised to see Doug Franklin. “Patsy and Greg asked me if I could stay,” the man said.

“No problem,” A.L. said.

Doug led them down the hall and into a family room filled with soft leather couches and matching recliners. Patsy and Greg sat on one couch. They were both midforties and maybe thirty pounds overweight. They stood as he and Rena entered. “Detectives McKittridge and Morgan,” he said as he and Rena both showed badges. “Thank you for seeing us.”