“And then we can go to whoever that is?” Crystal asked hopefully.

  Buddy glanced at Sammy before he spoke. “No, you may have been right. We need to have a law enforcement officer with us. It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to accomplish anything more here today.”

  “Tell me again what you said to her,” Crystal said to her husband.

  “I called her name and told her that we wanted to talk to her. Buddy and Gracie were standing closer to her than I was. They said something and Reagan took off running with another girl.”

  “Did you talk to her?” Crystal asked Gracie.

  Gracie explained the sequence of events. Her memory was very precise. There was nothing for Buddy to add.

  “When the blond girl rushed up, things changed,” Gracie said. “The people she’s with are having a huge influence on Reagan. I wish there had been a way to get her off by herself, even for a few minutes.”

  “It didn’t happen,” Crystal sighed. “And it’s going to be a long drive home to Clarksburg. Will you let us know what you find out about the license plate?”

  “Yes,” Buddy said.

  Once the Landrys were gone, Gracie and Buddy returned to the pharmacy and spoke to Pushkin.

  “I doubt the customer will return, but I’ll post a notice on the company bulletin board,” the pharmacist said. “That way her name will be flagged at any of our stores.”

  “Sorry for the disruption,” Buddy said.

  “We’ve seen a lot worse,” Pushkin said with a shrug. “This store has been robbed several times since I’ve been working here.”

  The pharmacist’s words triggered an idea for Gracie. “Were the surveillance cameras running?” she asked, glancing up at an opaque glass cover of the type that concealed a camera.

  “Twenty-four/seven,” Pushkin answered.

  “Could we get a copy of the angle that best shows the face of the young blond girl and the girl we spoke to?”

  “That would take a request from the police or an order from a judge.”

  “We can get that,” Buddy replied. “Who should we contact?”

  Pushkin left for a few moments and returned with a card. “Contact this person. She’s over security for the Atlanta region. I’ll file a report so she’ll know what happened.”

  Buddy and Gracie left the store.

  “Do you want me to drive?” Gracie asked. “I’d be glad to take a turn.”

  “No, thanks. I do some of my best thinking while driving. The first thing we need to do is call Mayleah. She returned my call while we were in the store.”

  The detective didn’t answer, and Buddy left a brief voice-mail message.

  As they navigated their way through the streets toward the expressway, Gracie wanted to talk, but hesitated based on Buddy’s comment that he liked to think in the car. He remained silent until the city gave way to the suburbs. Gracie checked her watch. Barring a traffic accident, she’d make it to softball practice.

  “I’m glad you came,” Buddy said.

  “Why?”

  “This isn’t the sort of situation to go through alone,” he said, then paused. “I wonder if things would have gone differently if Sammy hadn’t jumped in.”

  “It’s impossible to know, and there’s no use guessing.”

  Buddy glanced sideways at her. “Reagan was listening to you.”

  “She’s with a bad crowd,” Gracie replied. “We just don’t know how bad it is. I’m afraid Crystal is right. Now that we’ve found Reagan, she may take off again.”

  “Amber and Elise moved all over the place.”

  They passed an exit with a lot of new commercial development springing up.

  “I stopped by my mother’s house this morning,” Buddy said.

  “I know. I pulled in right after you left.”

  Buddy looked over at her. “Did she tell you why I’d come over?”

  “Yes, and she showed me the photos of Elise and Amber.”

  “What did you think?”

  Gracie suddenly had a lump in her throat. “Amber and Elise may have crisscrossed the country, but your long search is almost over.”

  Buddy told Gracie more about the visit with Amber’s great-uncle. It made her wish she could have been there too. Finally, Mayleah called, and Buddy filled her in on what happened at the pharmacy.

  “The only way to find out what Reagan really wants to do is to get her off by herself,” Buddy concluded. “Gracie had her on the fence until the other girl intervened.”

  “That’s how it works in these situations,” Mayleah replied.

  “What situations?” Gracie asked.

  “In which a young woman is being controlled by others. I doubt the oxycodone or the Ambien were for Reagan. Someone else in her new circle was behind the request and made her return to the pharmacy a second time. And they didn’t send her alone. She was accompanied by a handler.”

  Mayleah’s words sent shivers down Gracie’s spine. She gave Mayleah the license plate number for the Cadillac.

  “I’ll have an answer within a few minutes after we hang up,” Mayleah said.

  “And we asked the pharmacist about obtaining the surveillance video so we have an image of the blond girl,” Gracie said.

  “We’ll send you a photo of the security officer’s card so you can send an official request,” Buddy added.

  “I’m at the sheriff’s department and can follow up today. Sometimes those systems delete the data every twenty-four hours unless there’s an override request to keep it.”

  “Anything else?” Buddy asked.

  “The only question is how today’s events impact what Gracie and I do on Saturday,” Mayleah said. “I hope no one in Nichols’s circle realizes that Pixie and Gracie are the same person.”

  Gracie hadn’t thought about that possibility.

  “To see if there’s a problem,” Mayleah continued, “I’ll send a private message to Nichols and see if she responds. If she doesn’t, it means your cover is blown. I may be outed as well.”

  Gracie glanced over at Buddy, who was staring straight ahead.

  “Do you think we made a mistake in going to Atlanta?” Gracie asked the detective.

  “Based on results, yes,” Mayleah answered. “But it was worth a try. Don’t be too hard on yourselves. There’s no perfect formula for this sort of thing. You just have to be persistent and not give up.”

  “Do you think Reagan will run off someplace else?” Gracie asked. “Both Crystal and I had that thought.”

  “Maybe, but that possibility doesn’t change anything we do over the next few days.”

  After the call ended, Gracie sent Mayleah an image of the security officer’s business card. When they reached the courthouse, she opened the passenger door and prepared to get out. Buddy’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Mayleah. He held it up so Gracie could read it:

  License plate stolen. Don’t know owner of Cadillac.

  * * *

  Several times during softball practice, Gracie checked the Instagram account for Pixie Carpenter. Mayleah had sent a private message to Nichols from Pixie with a follow-up question about the dog breeder. There was no reply. Gracie tried to hide her agitation from the girls on the team and stayed at the field after practice to throw balls into the backstop. A day that had started out promising ended with frustration for her and Buddy and crushing disappointment for Sammy and Crystal. Gracie released a rising fastball that ended up so high it would have sailed over the umpire’s head. Glancing up, she saw Mayleah’s truck pull into the gravel parking lot. Gracie took off her glove and walked over to the fence. Mayleah joined her.

  “Where’s the team?” the detective asked.

  “Practice ended ten minutes ago. I stayed late to burn off stress. I saw that the license plate for the car was stolen.”

  “Yeah, lifted off another vehicle a couple of months ago. But now a description of the Cadillac and the number are flagged in the Atlanta Police Department system.”

  “And no response from Patricia Nichols to the last private message?”

  “Not on social media, but I talked to her on the phone.”

  “What?” Gracie blurted out.

  “The request came through the Ahyoka page. Nichols wanted to know how much I’d be willing to chip in for your new puppy since a purebred dog may cost close to $2,000. I suggested we talk it over and gave her the number for a burner phone. She called me a few minutes later. Now I have at least one of her cell phone numbers.”

  “What’s she like on the phone?”

  “She comes across as a really nice person who wants to help you get a puppy. She’s even willing to match whatever I put in. I suggested $500, and she said that was the figure she had in mind. I told her you’d do whatever it takes to replace Ditto and could come up with $1,000.”

  “What do you think she’s up to?”

  “To meet with us when we have $1,500 in cash in our pockets and either rob us or run some sort of con to give her the money. I think a con is more likely, but it could also be a hook to bring us into her circle of influence.”

  “As soon as she sees us, she’s going to know we’re not teenagers.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Mayleah replied with a smile.

  “How can you be so relaxed about this?”

  “I’m not relaxed. I’m relieved. There’s still an open door. And you’re right. We’re not going to look like teenagers. Do you think early twenties is a possibility?”

  “Maybe,” Gracie answered with a slow shake of her head.

  “As you discovered earlier today, talking to someone in person can end very quickly unless you have a good plan.”

  “Buddy had a plan. Sammy jumped in and messed it up.”

  “And I want to minimize the chance of that happening again.”

  “Do we have a time and place to meet with Nichols on Saturday?”

  “I wanted her to feel like she’s in control of the situation, so I left that up to her.” Mayleah paused. “She suggested the common area of the apartment complex where I took the photos. The oddest part is the time of day. She wanted to meet at eight o’clock.”

  “That’s early.”

  “In the evening. She claims the breeder works a day job and meets with customers after hours. But we’ll go down much earlier so we can watch what’s going on at the apartment complex and learn as much as we can.”

  Gracie adjusted the ball cap on her head. “I saw Beatrice this morning, and she showed me the pictures of Elise. During the drive home from Atlanta, Buddy told me more about the meeting with Amber’s great-uncle. I’m so glad that worked out so well.”

  “Yes, and I hope it’s a breakthrough. I haven’t had a chance to dig into the new information, though.”

  * * *

  Buddy stayed late catching up on work at his office. He took a break to search for current information about Amber, Charles, and Elise Fleming in the database available to attorneys through his legal research subscription. Often, the system quickly produced a treasure trove of residential addresses, debt history, marriages, birth of children, and arrest records.

  In the past when he’d entered Amber’s date of birth, the trail disappeared after she left town. Typing in “Amber Fleming” yielded results for women with that name in several places across the country. It took over an hour for Buddy to eliminate them from consideration. He didn’t know Charles Fleming’s date of birth, and his name yielded multiple results. He would have to save that search for another day. Buddy wasn’t able to find any record of a marriage between Charles and Amber. The Flemings seemed as determined to live off the grid as a couple as Amber did when she was single.

  When Buddy entered Mary Elise’s name and date of birth, the first screen caught his attention. It showed that a girl named Elise Fleming, a minor, lived at an apartment in Chattanooga for two years and attended a private school. The lease period overlapped the check from Rascal that Amber cashed or deposited at the Citizens Tri-County Bank. Nothing else showed up for Elise all the way to the present. Buddy closed the program. He could contact the school and request information but doubted they would release it. Hopefully, Mayleah’s research in the law enforcement database would prove more fruitful.

  Emotionally and physically drained, Buddy went to bed early. He had a restless night and woke up from a disjointed dream in which he’d parked his car on a city street and couldn’t find it. The peace that had been his companion since the evening on the porch had taken a vacation. Forcing himself out of bed, he went for a morning run. Sluggish at first, he found his legs at the start of the second mile and cruised through various neighborhoods for almost an hour. A final sprint brought him home, where he bent over and rested his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. The honk of a car horn caused him to stand up and turn around. It was Jason Long. The pediatrician pulled into the driveway and lowered the window. He handed Buddy a bottle of water.

  “I saw you turning into your neighborhood,” the pediatrician said. “You were ripping it. As a doctor, I recommend a drink of water.”

  “Thanks,” Buddy replied as he unscrewed the top from the bottle and took a long drink. “I’m still holding out hope for Olympic gold.”

  “I wanted to give you some good news,” Jason said. “I had a long phone conference with my lawyers in Atlanta yesterday afternoon. The plaintiff’s attorney is going to take what’s called a voluntary dismissal in the lawsuit. That doesn’t end the possibility of a claim down the road, but it stops it for now.”

  “That’s great news. If they dismiss, it’s likely because they’re concerned about their expert witnesses.”

  “Yes. My lawyers mentioned that the doctor the plaintiff’s lawyer hired in New York ran into some disciplinary problems. Also, they found out that Cam Simpson, a well-respected local pediatrician, was going to express an opinion about liability favorable to me. That got their attention. My attorney suspects Cam sent them a report. They were surprised that we already knew about it.”

  “It’s hard to keep a secret in Milton County.”

  “Yeah. Thanks again for showing up in Cam’s parking lot at the break of day.”

  “Hey, I’ll wake up early for my clients.”

  “This has been such a weight on my shoulders for the past two months that I’m not sure how to feel with it gone,” Jason said earnestly. “And send me a bill. I want to pay you.”

  “Maybe, although I’d rather get a bowl of Brunswick stew at Smoke.”

  “A bowl? I’ll buy you a quart.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Buddy prepared to turn away and go into the house. Jason’s voice stopped him: “And I’ve thought some more about what you said the other night over at Chris’s house. Katie and I have talked about it too. You don’t make stuff up or exaggerate, so it got our attention. We’d like to get together to talk about it some more.”

  Buddy took another drink of water. “Would it be okay if I invited Gracie Blaylock to join us? She’s far ahead of me about this sort of thing.”

  “Sure. Katie will like that.”

  Shortly after he arrived at the office, Buddy received a call from Mayleah. Surprisingly, she’d run into the same dead end as he had for Charles, Amber, and Elise. He told her about Elise’s attendance at the school in Chattanooga.

  “You’re right. The school won’t release any records to you,” Mayleah said.

  “What do you make of the whole situation?” Buddy asked.

  “That the Flemings pay cash, avoid debt, and don’t get arrested.”

  “Not many people in America can say that.”

  “And it’s clear that as a family, they’ve wanted to stay hidden.”

  “Which makes me feel bad,” Buddy said after a moment passed. “All I wanted to do was be in my daughter’s life.”

  “People make choices for no reason or for wrong reasons. We all do.”

  * * *

  Shortly after Gracie arrived home from work there was a knock at her door. Peeking through the glass at the top, she saw that it was Lauren and both of her boys. Her sister had a large pizza box in her hand.

  “Surprise!” Lauren said when Gracie opened the door. “Jeff is out of town for a business meeting until late tonight, and we decided to bring pizza for Aunt Gracie.”

  Opie was barking excitedly at the sight of the two little boys. Mark, the younger boy, seemed to grow an inch between visits and looked less like a toddler by the day. His older brother, T.J., thoughtful and less rambunctious, loved Opie. He immediately knelt down and began to rub the fur around the dog’s face. Opie rewarded him with a quick lick to the nose.

  “I thought that after we eat, the boys could play in the backyard with Opie,” Lauren continued.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Gracie replied.

  The pizza was from a local place willing to create three pies in one. The boys’ third was strictly cheese. Lauren liked a Hawaiian theme with ham, pineapple, and onion. She knew Gracie was a pepperoni, mushroom, and black olive girl. They sat at the kitchen table. Opie settled down beneath the table at T.J.’s feet.

  “How’s it going with Daniel?” Lauren asked as she tried to capture an errant string of cheese.

  Gracie told her about the strange email that repeated information from a previous one. “It made it seem like he was cutting and pasting,” she said.

  “He probably was,” Lauren answered, securing the cheese between her teeth. “If you don’t feel comfortable with him, it’s time to move on to someone else. That’s the beauty of these dating sites. You can minimize emotional damage. If it’s been that long and you haven’t agreed to meet, he’s probably moved on too.”

  “This dating site thing is weird.”

  Lauren wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Look, this isn’t like the days when our grandparents sat on the front porch, sipped lemonade, and chatted until the crickets began to chirp.”

  “I like sitting on porches,” Gracie said.

  “It’s just a figure of speech.”

  “Not to me.”

  Lauren gave her a questioning look. Later, while they sat on the deck watching the boys run around in the yard with Opie, Gracie told her what happened with Buddy at his mother’s house.