Alphabetized list. A name as blatant as a scar, sandwiched among M.D.s and Ph.D.s, chiropractors, counselors, art therapists, massage specialists.

Drew Daney, M.Div., Pastoral Consultant.

The growling noise behind me raised the short hairs on the back of my neck.

” ‘I do some work with nonprofits,’ ” Milo said. “Sure you do, dude. You’re a regular fucking saint.”

“Maybe he gets a kickback,” I said. “Percentage of total billings. An additional incentive to get them pregnant and terminated.”

“Additional?”

“Something like that is never just about money.”

* * *

We moved to the kitchen and I brewed coffee.

“At the very least, this guy’s abusing young girls,” said Milo. “If he’s done everything we’ve wondered about, he’s a dimestore Manson. Problem is I can’t do a damn thing about it because officially I’m not allowed to have access to the girls’ medical files. Even with the files there’s no proof Daney was responsible for the pregnancies.”

“As a psychologist, I’m obligated to report abuse,” I said. “The rules of evidence don’t apply.”

“How much proof do you need in order to report?”

“The law says suspicion of abuse. What that means is unclear. Every time I’ve tried to get clarification— from the medical board, my lawyer, the state psych association— I’ve failed. I know colleagues who’ve gotten into trouble for reporting and those who’ve been screwed because they didn’t.”

“The law’s an ass,” he said, bypassing the coffee and getting a beer from the fridge. “One thing puzzles me, Alex. Even with kickbacks, Daney getting all those girls pregnant would be dangerous. Be easier to get them birth control, or use some himself, than risk their telling someone.”

“They haven’t told yet,” I said. “Or maybe they did and no one listened.”

“The poor Ramos kid.”

I nodded. “Even if Daney didn’t murder anyone else, if he was the father of her child, he’s responsible, on some level, for her death.”

He popped his beer but didn’t drink. “So how do I find out?”

“How about this: I could try to talk to Leticia Hollings and Beth Scoggins. Couch it as a general inquiry into foster care. If they mention or hint about being exploited, I’ll have a clear obligation to notify the police.”

“Any police in particular?”

“In a pinch, you’ll do.”

He smiled weakly. “The problem is, Alex, if you approach them as a police surrogate, the confidentiality thing will still get in the way of a criminal investigation.”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “I began as a police consultant but veered off to independent research.”

“Thought that was a cover story.”

“It could be real.”

He looked up. “How so?”

“I learned about Lee Ramos’s suicide working with you and got intrigued on an intellectual level.”

“Intrigued about what?”