“What instructions?”

“Oh, dear,” said Wascomb. “I’m getting ahead of myself, this has all been so . . .” From a pocket of the cardigan he pulled two sheets of paper folded to postcard size.

Milo unfolded them, read, jutted his lower jaw. “Where’d you find this, sir?”

“When I looked around the house, I peeked into the bedroom and saw it on the desk.” Wascomb licked his lips. “I noticed it because it lay in the center of the desk, atop a piece of blotting paper. As if she wanted me to see it.”

“Was it folded?”

“No, flat. It really seemed as if she’d intended for me to read it.”

“Anything else on the desk?”

“Pens, pencils,” said Wascomb. “And a strongbox. The type banks use for safety deposit. That, of course, I didn’t touch.”

Milo handed the papers to me. Two pages of neat, forward-slanting cursive.

The Flock: Instructions for Daily Care

1. Patricia: Lactose-sensitive (soy milk in the fridge). Needs special help with reading and penmanship.

2. Gloria: Ritalin 10 mg. before breakfast, 10 mg. before dinner, self-esteem issues, doing well in all remedial areas but needs a lot of explicit verbal encouragement.

3. Amber: Ritalin 15 mg. before breakfast, 10 mg. before dinner, Allegra 180 mg. as needed for hay fever, penicillin allergy, shellfish allergy, doesn’t like meat but should be encouraged to eat some chicken; math, reading, penmanship . . .

Milo said, “Looks like she’s been preparing to be gone for a while.”

Wascomb said, “Cherish was always an organized student. If she did leave for an extended period, I’m sure her reason was sound.”

“Such as?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Lieutenant. But I do have the utmost respect for her.”

“As opposed to Drew.”

Wascomb’s jaw set. “I’m sure the doctor has told you of our problems with Drew.”

“He’s gone, too,” said Milo.

“They are husband and wife.”

“You think they left together.”

“I don’t know what to think, sir,” said Wascomb.

“When Cherish called she mentioned nothing about going away, Reverend?”

“No— Is it lieutenant? No, she didn’t, Lieutenant. I fully expected her to be here when I arrived. If Cherish didn’t call you, sir, may I ask why you’re here?”

“Protecting and serving, Reverend.”

“I see,” said Wascomb. “Will you be needing me any further? I’d be happy to pledge Fulton’s support for the children, in the short term. However— ”

“Could you stick around a bit?” said Milo. “Show me that strongbox?”

“It’s right on the desk, Lieutenant. I should be getting back to Mrs. Wascomb.”

Milo’s hand alit on Wascomb’s sleeve. “Stay for a short while, Reverend.”

Wascomb smoothed down his hair to no effect. “Of course.”

“Appreciate it, sir. Now let’s tend to the flock.”