“Of course. But that doesn’t matter. Look, just let me do what I have to do. If you hear from Carol, if you get any new ideas about where she might be, you call me. But you can’t tag along. That just won’t fly.”

Trevor made his hands into fists, then opened them. “It’s not right.”

“Yes, it’s right,” Duckworth said. “One thing.”

“What?”

“That woman in the trunk. Is she the one Carol saw outside Knight’s?”

Trevor shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t get a look at her then, and I sure didn’t get a look at her just now.”

“Do you remember if Carol said her name was Dolores, or Dolly?”

Trevor blinked. “Maybe. Not Dolores, but she might have said Dolly. I never really picked up on it.”

Duckworth laid his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Okay. I have to go.”

There was an awkward hesitation between them, then Trevor reached out and grasped his father’s arm.

“I’m scared to death,” he said. “I’m scared to death about what’s happened to Carol.”

“Me too,” Duckworth said.

He parked out front of Mike’s tattoo business, but before he got out of the car he had other matters to deal with. The first was to start distributing that picture of Carol Beakman Trevor had sent him. He forwarded it to the station, then got on the phone to provide further details. He wanted every Promise Falls police officer to be on the lookout for her. Then he asked for Shirley in communications and ordered up an immediate news release on Carol Beakman. Tweet it, post it on the department’s Facebook page, get it to all the local TV news programs.

“And crop that picture,” Duckworth said, “so it only shows the woman’s face.”

“You don’t want this guy in the picture?” Shirley asked.

“No.”

“He might end up being a suspect or something,” she said.

“Just take him out of the shot.”

“Got it. Only trying to help. He actually looks a bit like you. Only, you know, a lot younger.”

“Thanks for that, Shirley.”

“Call ’em as I see ’em.”

“There’s something else I need.”

“Fire away, boss.”

“You know that Big Baby case?”

Shirley made a snorting noise. “Who doesn’t?”

“The kid’s name was Jeremy Pilford. Can you google him? See if there’s anything that connects him to Promise Falls? I think he might be in our neck of the woods.”

“Seriously?” Shirley said.

“Yeah. I think I saw him on some surveillance video at Knight’s. Is that so hard to believe?”

“You haven’t listened to the news this morning?”

“What are you talking about?”

“There was a protest last night. They had to send a couple of cars out.”

Duckworth pressed the phone closer to his ear. “A protest where?”

“You know Madeline Plimpton? Used to be publisher of the Standard?”