“Okay, okay. Just think about it, though.” Her voice trailed off.

Lou followed her upstairs and showered in the guest bathroom. Renee was right. There had to be a connection.

Lou couldn’t dwell long on the possibilities. Steve worked in D.C. and would be home soon. Renee had her suitcase at the top of the stairs. The sooner they were on their way, the better, and even then he wouldn’t feel safe until he heard they had arrived at the cabin without incident.

He went to Emily’s room and helped her gather her things.

“What’s really going on, Dad?” she asked, her eyes moist.

Lou patted the edge of her twin bed, and she sat down beside him. The nearness of her comforted him and calmed him more than any medication ever could have. “Like I said, there is a very bad man who wants to hurt me and anyone close to me. He’s angry because I can prove the corn he’s selling is responsible for that doctor who shot all those people.”

“Dr. Meacham, your client from the Wellness Office,” she said.

Lou reminded himself never to underestimate or talk down to his daughter. Thirteen going on thirty. “Exactly,” he said. “I’m going to go speak to the police, and we’re going to do what we can to put a stop to this and put him in jail where he belongs. You can help by doing what Mom tells you. Okay?”

“Dad, I’m scared.”

“I understand,” he said. “I’m a little scared myself. But once you’re away and safe, no one can hurt you and I’ll have time to go and talk to the police. It won’t be long. I promise.”

Emily wrapped her arms around him and he allowed her to cry until she was able to stop. He was still holding her when an incongruous image popped into his head. It was the image of pathetic Roberta Jennings, seated in her living room, swollen ankles folded over the tops of her shoes.

Tell, me, Mrs. Jennings, did you have any interactions with Dr. Meacham outside of the clinic? Were you involved in any clubs together? Community organizations? Church groups? Anything like that?

And at that instant, the missing piece fell into place and he knew.

Together, he and Emily moved the suitcases downstairs.

Lou was getting a glass of water in the kitchen when he felt his cell phone vibrating in the pocket of the sweatpants Renee had given him. It was a text message from an unfamiliar number.

Darlene?