Edie sighed. “Look, you might want to start at the library. They have computers and you can look things up there probably faster than on one of those cheap burner phones. You can use the online white pages.”

“Burner phone?” he asked, then waved the question away. “Never mind. It’s okay. I can look things up for free at the library?”

“If you have a library card. Do you?”

He shook his head. “I did, but it expired in 1990.”

Edie dropped her gaze to her hands and tapped the screen of her phone, revealing the image of three smiling children, all about Abigail’s age. The screen also displayed the time, which Amos supposed was handy for Edie, as the woman didn’t wear a wristwatch.

“My break is over,” she said, “so I have to get back. Look, I have a library card. I can’t give it to you, but I have some time between this job and my shift at Smith’s. If you can wait till ten, I’ll meet you at the library and help get you started.”

Amos exhaled in relief. “Thank you. Yes, we can wait. I’ll meet you there. Where is it?”

“I’ll look it up.”

Then, as he watched, she held the phone in front of her face, then cradled it in her left palm. Gone was the image of the smiling children, replaced by . . .

“Is that a map?” he asked, wonderingly.

“It is. Very handy for the directionally challenged like me.” At his blank look, she laughed. “I get lost everywhere I go.” She typed in library near me with one finger, tapped the screen again, then nodded. “They don’t open till ten, anyway, the public libraries.” She grabbed a napkin from the table and a crayon, then quickly wrote a list of directions. “It’s only twenty minutes from here. Or you can stay here until ten if you want, and you can follow me.”

Amos looked at Abigail, who was back to coloring with a vengeance. “She’s occupied with her crayons, so waiting here sounds fine.”

Edie pushed back from the table. “If she gets bored, they have coloring books at the Smith’s across the street. It’s a grocery store. Gotta get back. See you later, Amos and Abigail.”

Abigail smiled up at her. “Thank you, Miss Edie!”

Amos slid from the booth to stand, bowing his head slightly. “Yes. Thank you, Miss Edie. You can’t know how much I appreciate your kindness.”

Edie gave his arm a friendly pat. “You’re welcome. I have three young grandchildren. I’d hope someone would help them if they and my daughter were stuck and alone. Sit down, hon. Drink your coffee. It’ll be all right.”

Amos watched her go, hoping Edie was right. It’ll be all right. Settling back into the booth, he sipped at his coffee and watched his little girl play.

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

TUESDAY, APRIL 18, 9:15 A.M.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Rafe put a cup of coffee on the nightstand next to Mercy’s side of the bed. “Here you go.”