I reexamined the photos that included the black woman. “Adriana stands nearer to her than she does to anyone else. So let’s assume a close relationship.”

“The pal in the red car?”

“What we’ve heard about Adriana says she had a moral compass, would never have bailed on the Changs without a good reason. Helping a good friend might qualify.”

“If she was murdered because she knew too much, why dump the bones near her and risk the association?”

“He’s a confident guy.”

“Talk about a poor choice for your baby’s daddy. And that leads me back to the problem I had before. Child abuse, even murder, something rage-related, happens all the time. But I’m still having trouble seeing anyone, even a psychopath, taking the time to clean and wax his own offspring’s bones then tossing them like trash.”

I have no trouble seeing anything and that turns some nights hellish. I said, “You’re probably right. The first step is I.D.’ing this woman.”

He looked at his watch. Close to three a.m. “Too early to rouse Reverend Goleman in Idaho.” Separating the photo album from the cartons, he dropped it into an evidence bag. We carried both boxes to the big D-room, where he secured them in a locker. Returning to his office, he wrote an email to the crime lab. Leaning back in his chair, he yawned. “Go home, sleep late, kiss Robin and pet the pooch. Have a nice breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“You’re not going home.”

“There’s a sleeping room near the holding cells. I may just bunk out so I can be ready to phone Boise in four hours. Hopefully a devout fellow like the Rev will be cooperative.”

“Speaking of devout,” I said, “where will you be attending Sunday Mass?”

“What? Oh, that. I said evidentiary, not suggestive.”

“Driving a tough bargain with the Almighty?”

“He wouldn’t respect me otherwise.”

CHAPTER
23

I slipped into bed just after three thirty a.m., careful not to rouse Robin.

She rolled toward me, wrapped her arms around my neck, murmured, “Morning.”

“Not enough morning. Go back to sleep.”

One of her eyes opened. “Anything new?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we wake up.”

“We’re awake now.” She propped herself up.

I gave her a rundown.

She said, “Mothers and babies,” sighed and slid away from me, was breathing evenly within seconds. Sometimes she talks in her sleep when she’s upset. This time she remained silent until daybreak. I knew because I watched her for a long time.

An internal prompt woke me at seven a.m. I should’ve been wiped out; instead I was hyped, eager to know what Milo had learned from the Right Reverend Goleman. I waited for him to call and when he hadn’t by seven thirty, I took a robotic run, showered, shaved, brought coffee out to Robin in her studio.