Since October 2, the day after Polly Klaas’s kidnapping, media attention has been growing exponentially, and local volunteer efforts, too, Sergeant Barresi explained before we headed to see Rod Fraser. These aren’t experts, just ordinary townspeople—getting involved with the search effort on their own initiative, going door-to-door, spreading the word about Polly. As Barresi told it, he’s both impressed and a little in awe at the size of the response. A local business owner donated empty retail space for the Polly Klaas Search Center, and the phone banks are already up and running. Someone else has divided the town and surrounding area into a grid of seventeen locales, and over six hundred townspeople are conducting daily searches of the fields, creeks, and farmland around Petaluma. They aren’t waiting to be told what to do, or how to be useful. They’re acting.

Every restaurant and storefront already has Polly’s missing poster in the window. Apparently the owner of a small downtown print shop has rolled out thousands of copies and challenged every other business in town with access to a printer to do the same. A mailing effort is underway sending flyers to hospital emergency rooms and police departments all over Northern California. Truck drivers and bus drivers are being given boxes of flyers to distribute on their routes, widening the net even farther.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I say to Will as we move slowly back through town.

“Me neither. Four days in, she’s America’s Child. How does that happen?”

“The town feels responsible for her. That’s rare. Do you really think they know her personally?”

“Maybe yes, maybe no,” he says. “They care about her. That’s what matters.”

“What is there to learn here?” I ask him.

We’ve come to a long stoplight, and he stares at me. “That the word ‘kidnapping’ has a shitload of power.”

“Emily should go public with a plea for help,” I say. “I know why she’s terrified of a media circus, but she still has a voice when most don’t. Millions and millions of people know who she is. Think of what that kind of attention could do for Cameron.”

“We can’t force her. She’s not ready, Anna.”

“This isn’t about her.” I hear my voice pitch sharply. My heart has begun to thwack off rhythm. “We’re wasting so much time. We should have had a search center and a phone bank up from the beginning. We should have been printing flyers like crazy and sending them everywhere. If we had, Cameron might be home now.”

“Are you saying I fucked up?”

“Not at all,” I rush to say. “I blame the family. They’re the ones who begged you to keep all this quiet. Emily shouldn’t have a choice to hide away.”