Fifteen minutes later, she had confirmation from Brent Smoke’s assistant that it was 470 Cleveland Avenue. They would start there and then widen the circle. Maybe there would be a helpful neighbor who had known Coyote Frogg, who might be able to point them in the right direction.

They were fifteen minutes away when A.L.’s cell buzzed. He looked at the message. “Ferguson has verified that both Elaine and Leah were at the casino on Wednesday morning. Leah arrived first, coffee in hand. Then Elaine. Elaine left, Leah followed. Times match what both the women said.”

“Well, that’s that, I guess,” Rena said. She was quiet for a minute. “I didn’t want it to be Leah. She’s doing some sad shit with her mother but still, it’s her child.”

“Yeah. That would be bad.”

The Froggs had lived at the very edge of Dover, near a set of railroad tracks. It was a small house, maybe a two-bedroom. There was a man on a ladder painting the exterior of the house. “That’s some paint,” A.L. said. It was a cross between red and burgundy and was starkly different than the white he was trying to cover.

He parked his vehicle and he and Rena got out. They approached from an angle where the man would see them coming. They didn’t want anybody falling off and cracking his head open.

“Morning, sir,” A.L. said.

“Morning,” he replied, his tone cautious.

Maybe he thought they were from the city. That one of the neighbors had complained about the new paint. “I’m Detective McKittridge and this is Detective Morgan. We’re from the Baywood, Wisconsin, police department. Can we have a minute of your time?”

The man didn’t answer but he did climb down. He was young, maybe twenty-five.

“What’s your name, sir?” Rena asked.

“Dawson Ladle,” he said.

“Is this your house, Mr. Ladle?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“How long have you lived here?” Rena followed up.

“Almost three years.”

“Did you purchase it from Trapper Frogg?” A.L. asked.

“Well, sort of. It was Trapper’s house but I actually bought it from his son, Coyote, after Trapper passed away.”

“Do you know Coyote Frogg?” A.L. asked.

Dawson Ladle shrugged. “Dover is pretty small. Most everybody knows everybody else. So, I guess you could say that I knew Coyote. He was a senior in his school when I was a freshman. He didn’t pay any attention to me but he ran track his senior year and made State so I knew him. I saw the sign in the front yard when he put the house up for sale and it was in my price range. I was surprised that he wasn’t keeping the house but he didn’t seem to want anything to do with it.”

“Where was Coyote living at the time?” Rena asked.