I sit in silence as the cassette hums to its conclusion. Things I’d fought so hard to set aside have returned and they play at my emotions. I want to cry, but no tears come. I look at my phone. It’s late now. No time for dinner.

My eyes land once more on the box of tapes, all waiting for me. Each tape is like a knife meant to cut me open and expose whatever’s inside.

One tape is enough for today. I doubt I could handle two.

I take my wine, and as I head for my bedroom, I hope with everything in my heart that none of what I revisited will come for me in my dreams.

Six

The man answering the phone at La Paloma the next morning is exceedingly polite. His English is perfect too. The connection between my landline and his phone, however, is less than ideal. I ask him if he can help me get in contact with the Wheatons, who are there from the States to volunteer at the orphanage.

“What group are they with?”

“No group,” I say. “I believe they came alone. Maybe two or three weeks ago.”

“Do you know what skills they were providing?”

I don’t, but then I think of the beautiful cherry dining table.

“Mr. Wheaton is a skilled carpenter. I don’t know about Mrs. Wheaton’s area of expertise or if she even had any.”

“Ah,” he said. “Hold on.”

The phone cracks and every now and then it seems like it might have disconnected. Lucky for me it didn’t.

He comes back on. “Sorry. No record. I searched our volunteer log and I see no mention of their request for credentials. Maybe it was another facility?”

“No,” I tell him. “This was the one the family mentioned.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

I provide my contact information and tell him that if they should turn up then they need to call me.

“The family is very concerned,” I say.

Not that anyone but Ruth Turner is, though the children most certainly will be.

Their parents are indeed missing.

I log the information into the Missing Person’s report. I consider calling Ruth’s husband’s number, but I know she’s not home yet. I’ll let her know where we are tonight. I need to go back to the Wheaton place first and tell Joshua and Sarah.

I inform Sheriff Gray about what I’ve learned.

“Maybe they got in an accident?”

“Right. I’ll check on that before I leave.”

“Want me to ride out there with you?”

I almost take him up on the offer. I enjoy his company, but after listening to Dr. Albright’s tape last night I have some processing to do. Alone time is completely warranted.