Jaime made sure he didn’t crack a smile. “Thank you, Cricket.”

“But that isn’t a clue.”

“It’s okay if Otto thinks so. Speaking of clues, though, I’d like you to tell me again about yesterday, and when Karl disappeared.”

“I already told everybody! And no one has found him!”

“I know. And I’m sorry. But people are looking.”

“LIP SERVICE,” Cricket announced loudly, recrossing her arms.

“Not this time. This time, people really are looking. You know Tess’s cat?”

Cricket nodded. “The big one?”

“Yes. She’s missing, too. I think they’re connected.”

Cricket dropped her arms. “COLLUSION. CONSPIRACY.”

“Maybe. So do you think you could go over it again? Just for me?”

“Yes. But I’m going to need REINFORCEMENTS.”

To Cricket, reinforcements consisted of a grilled cheese sandwich followed by her mother’s fudge brownies and a tall glass of milk. Mrs. Moran offered lunch to Jaime, too, and he couldn’t refuse, so he ate for the second time in two hours. Ono began beeping in his pocket, so Jaime took it out and set it on the table. Otto could not stop giggling when Ono paraded across the table and said, “Oh no,” every time it reached the edge.

“Thank you, Mrs. Moran,” Jaime said. “These brownies are delicious.”

“You’re welcome, Jaime. It’s nice to see you again. And it was so nice of your grandmother to find us this beautiful place. I can’t thank her enough. We love it here. My husband has his own office now. And the rooms are so spacious.” Mrs. Moran raised her coffee cup, gesturing to the living room beyond. She had painted it a soft gray color, and decorated with low modern furniture in shades of burnt orange and red. Jaime had to admit the place looked good. Not sterile at all. She had always been a pretty woman—brown-skinned with large, soulful dark eyes and a short, tidy ’fro—but now she glowed like a woman in an ad for face cream. She was happy.

At least someone was.

But not completely. “I’m worried about Karl, though. Cricket has been devastated.”

“What’s devastated?” asked Cricket.

“Upset.”

“I’m not DEVASTATED,” said Cricket. “I’m AGGRAVATED.”

“Either way,” said Mrs. Moran. “She hasn’t been herself.”

“I’M NOT SOMEBODY ELSE,” said Cricket.

“That’s not what I . . . Cricket, would you like another brownie?”

“I want another brownie!” said Otto.

Cricket raised a brow at her brother. “You’ve had four. Don’t you think that’s enough?”

“You’re not the boss of me,” said Otto. “Why are you always pretending to be the boss? You’re too small.”

“I am the Small Boss,” Cricket said, taking another brownie.

Otto pounded the table. “MOM!”

“Oh no,” said Ono.