“I don’t have friends,” Aidan protested. “I don’t go to bars, I don’t hang out with buddies. I watch TV, mostly reruns. I like Seinfeld, maybe a little Law & Order.”

“Tell me what you saw Wednesday night.”

“Seinfield was master of his domain,” Aidan said dryly. “And McCoy prosecuted some cult leader guy who thought he was God.”

D.D. saw more piles of clothes. She frowned, withdrew, then paused. She glanced again at the piles of dirty laundry on the bedroom floor, then the pile of clothing in the closet. How many pairs of blue jeans and white T-shirts could one guy own?

Plain sight, plain sight, plain sight.

She kicked her foot into the closet pile, pressing down. And sure enough, hit something hard. Metal, she thought. Rectangular. Decent-sized. Computer? Lockbox? House safe? A computer would violate the terms of the kid’s parole. Interesting.

She drew back again, chewing her lower lip, debating her options.

“Don’t be yanking my chain,” Miller was saying now. “Because I can look up what aired Wednesday night. You get this wrong, we’re gonna be calling you down to the station, and this time, we won’t be friends.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Aidan exploded.

“Woman vanishing on your block is entirely coincidental?”

“She’s a grown woman. Come on, you’ve seen my record. What the hell would I want with a mom?”

“Ah, but she’s a young, pretty mom. Same age as yourself. Lonely, too. Husband that works nights. Maybe she just wanted to talk. Maybe it started out with you two as friends. Did she learn what you had done, Aidan? Find out about your first love and freak out?”

“I never spoke to her! Ask anyone. If that woman was outside, she was with her kid. And I stay clear of kids!”

“You lost your job, Aidan. Must make you mad.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Everyone thinks you’re good for this. Got a garage full of guys who want to make an example of you. I don’t blame you for being agitated.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Wrist hurt?” Miller asked abruptly.

“What?”

“Wrist hurt? You’ve been snapping away for ten minutes now. Tell me about the elastic, Aidan. Is that part of your program? Snap the elastic every time you’re thinking impure thoughts involving little kids? My, my, you’re having an impure day.”

“Hey, knock it off! You don’t know nothin’ about nothin’. I’m not into kids. I was never into kids.”

“So a twenty-three-year-old mom isn’t out of the question?”

“Stop it! You’re putting words into my mouth. I fell in love with the wrong girl, okay? That’s all I did wrong. I fell in love with the wrong girl, and now my life’s shit. Nothing more, nothing less.”