“Don’t be sexist,” Rena said, to both of the men. “Maybe her husband is the terrible housekeeper,” Rena said. “Perhaps her job is to mow the yard.”
“Yeah, well, that needed doing also. I did see a big motorcycle in the garage so maybe they spend their time riding that instead of taking care of the house.”
“What did you walk away thinking?” Rena asked.
“That she’s a nice lady. But just to make sure I had a good read, I went to her kids’ school afterwards and chatted with the principal. Kids are well behaved. There’s never been any issues with either Tanya Knight or her husband. In fact, Tanya is a frequent volunteer and guess what, everybody loves working with her.”
“What about Benita Garza?” Rena asked.
Ferguson flipped pages in his notebook. “She’s late fifties. Used to—”
A.L. held up a hand. “Wait. Back to Tanya Knight. You said she’s thirty-four. What does she look like?”
Ferguson shrugged. “White. Nice shape. Blond hair.”
“Long or short?”
“Chin length. Straight.”
“How tall is she?”
Ferguson rubbed his chin. “Five-five, maybe five-six. If it’s important, I can call and ask her.”
“No. That’s good enough. Back to Benita.”
“Benita worked at the button factory full-time but retired about a year ago. Stayed home for about three months before she started working at the day care. Her grandchild is enrolled there. Her shift is from 10:00 to 2:00 every day. Said it’s the best job she’s ever had. She did work on Wednesday but did not arrive until about 9:45. Said that she didn’t know anything was wrong until Wednesday night when Alice Quest called and asked her if she’d seen Emma. She couldn’t believe that the child was missing.”
A.L.’s father and uncle worked at that same factory. They likely knew Benita. “Her house?”
“She lives with her daughter, son-in-law and their two children. Cute farmhouse at the edge of town. Much cleaner than the Knights’ abode.”
“So you’ve cleared them both?” Rena asked.
“Didn’t see anything that makes me think we should look at them any harder,” Ferguson agreed. “Anything else?”
“Nope. Not right now,” A.L. said. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Rena waited until Ferguson got back to his desk across the room. “I feel like we’re living Doug Franklin’s life. He cleared all the people at the Dover day care.”
“I know. This sucks. But did you think Ferguson was going to open a bedroom door somewhere and there would be Emma Whitman, playing with some dolls?”
“No. But I also can’t stand the idea that it’s been roughly a day and a half since Emma was dropped off and we don’t appear to be close to an answer.”
“We don’t know how close we are. Right now it’s hard to see how much incremental gain we’ve had but I have to believe with every conversation we know a little more. When we turn over the right stone, we’re going to know it.”
“Listen to you, Mr. Optimist. Maybe you should call Tanya Knight and ask her to go to lunch. You could have a bunch of glass-half-full conversations,” Rena grumbled. “You were asking all those questions about her physical appearance just to make sure that Elaine couldn’t have gotten her mixed up with Kara Wiese.”
“Yeah. But Kara Wiese is barely five foot. With long brown hair versus short blonde. Come on, let’s go.”
They walked downstairs and got into A.L.’s SUV. He started it and pulled out of the lot. Got about three blocks before turning to Rena. “I know I said that I wanted to check in with Leah but I think I want to talk to Elaine Broadstreet again first. The questions we have for her are bigger than the questions we have for Leah.”
“You think she’s still at Leah’s house?” Rena asked.
“If she is, we need to do it somewhere else. I don’t think we’ll get the truth otherwise.”
“I’ll call her,” Rena said. Elaine answered her phone on the second ring.
“Hello.”
“This is Detective Morgan. I’m with Detective McKittridge and we’d like an opportunity to meet with you. Are you at home?”
“Uh...no.”
“Can you be there in fifteen minutes?” Rena asked.
“I don’t...” the woman said, her tone irritated. There was a pause. “Of course,” she said, her tone very different.
She either didn’t want to appear argumentative to the police or maybe she didn’t want her daughter to know who was calling. Hard to tell. Rena didn’t much care. “Thank you. We’ll see you then.” She ended the call.
“What’s her address?”
Rena gave it to him.
With a quick tap on the brakes, A.L. turned. The car behind him let loose a sharp blast of their horn.
Rena gave him a look.
“I know a shortcut,” he said.
He likely does, she thought. He’d grown up in Baywood. Had left for a few years, walked a beat in Madison, and later did some years in SWAT. But, as he told it, he’d been lured back to Baywood in hopes of saving his marriage. It hadn’t worked.
And he’d eaten dinner alone for a long time. But now was dating Tess.
That was the big news. The two of them had saved Tess from a serial killer just months earlier. “I never got a chance to ask,” she said. “How was California? You and Tess still okay?”
He gave her an amused look. “Familiarity breeds contempt?” he said.
“Contempt is a harsh word. And, anyway, it would be difficult to ever dislike Tess.”
He laughed. “Good one,” he said. “Too much of me, that’s another story.”
Now it was her turn to smile. “So I can assume it went well.”
“Yeah. It did.”
She waited, hoping he’d let another morsel drop. But she knew it was unlikely. “I’ll just have to use my imagination,” she said, letting him know where her head was going.
“Make it good,” he said. He pulled up in front of Elaine Broadstreet’s house. “I think we beat her here,” he said.
“Doug Franklin talked to Corrine Antler’s grandparents,” she said.
“Saw that in the file.”