It took about a minute for a woman, maybe midforties, wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt to open it. She had long brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail and a nice face.

“Genevieve Louis?” he asked.

“Yes. Sorry it took me a minute, I was upstairs.”

She didn’t much look like a psychic. Although to be honest, she was the first one he’d actually met. “Detectives McKittridge and Morgan,” he said. They both held out badges but she barely glanced at them.

“Please come in. Would you like a chair?” she asked.

That would leave her standing, since there were only two. The group readings must occur elsewhere.

“We’re fine,” he said.

“We want to talk to you about Emma Whitman,” Rena said. “She’s the missing five-year-old.”

“From the day care.”

“Yes,” Rena said.

“I’ve been thinking about her 24/7,” Genevieve said.

“Why’s that?” Rena asked.

“I’m not sure,” Genevieve admitted. “I mean, it’s a horrible story. But it seems to have consumed me. Maybe because it happened so close to here.”

“Were you here on Wednesday morning? Around 7:15, 7:30?” A.L. asked.

“Not here,” she said, motioning to the space around them. “I don’t open until 10:00. But I would have been upstairs. In my apartment.”

“Convenient,” Rena said.

“The reason I rented this location,” Genevieve explained. “I like to have all my energy centered, not spread too thin.”

“Right,” A.L. said. “You didn’t happen to see Emma Whitman walk away from the day care?” he asked, knowing it was all but impossible. If she had, she’d no doubt have come forward right away.

“No. I slept until almost 9:00 that morning.”

“No unusual noises? No dogs barking?” Rena asked.

“Sometimes people hear things but they don’t realize the importance at the moment,” A.L. added.

Genevieve smiled. “I’m pretty attuned to any stimuli.”

“And you didn’t see or hear anything unusual?” Rena said.

Genevieve shook her head. “But I don’t think she walked away.”

A.L. stared at the woman. “Why do you say that?”

“I told you, it’s been consuming me. I see her in a car.”

“See?”

Her glasses had slipped down her nose and she deliberately pushed them up. “Yes. See.”

“Do you see anything else?” Rena asked quickly, probably afraid to let him speak.

“She’s not unhappy.”

No one said anything. For a very long minute.

“Uh...can you describe the car?” Rena asked.

Genevieve shook her head. “I’m not sure it’s even a car. But I think it’s a vehicle of some kind.”

“The driver?” Rena asked. “Male? Female?”

“I’m sorry. It’s always just her. Little Emma.”

“What was she wearing?” A.L. asked.