“It doesn’t seem as if I had much choice. It made for a rather awkward parting with my friend that I was having dinner with. I imagine she’ll have a few questions.”
“We picked up Emma Whitman’s trail,” Rena said.
Alice didn’t flinch. Just kept her eyes on Rena.
“On your property.”
“That’s impossible,” Alice said.
“We’re sure she was there,” A.L. said.
“Alice, tell us how she got there,” Rena said.
“I have no idea,” Alice said. “It makes no sense.”
That was exactly what A.L. had said.
“She doesn’t know where I live. I mean, maybe her parents have driven by and said Ms. Quest lives there but there’s no way she could get herself from the learning center to my house. It’s more than five miles.”
“She was there, Alice,” Rena said, keeping her voice gentle yet firm. Alice was talking and that was always better than having a suspect clam up.
Alice took a drink of water. Set her cup down. “I think I’m getting this. You didn’t bring me in here to tell me news. You brought me here because you think I had something to do with Emma’s disappearance.”
“We believe Emma was recently in your backyard and we need you to tell us about that,” Rena said.
“I don’t have a clue. Emma Whitman has never been in my backyard. None of the children from the day care have ever been at my home. I don’t mix business and pleasure. I give a lot of my life to the Lakeside Learning Center and generally, I’m pretty damn content to do that. But when I go home, I want to leave it behind.”
“So you’re saying that Emma has never been in your backyard or your home?” Rena asked.
“That’s what I’m saying. And quite frankly, Detective, if this is going to go much longer, I want to call my attorney.”
A.L. pushed his chair back and tapped Rena on the shoulder. “Excuse us for a minute,” A.L. said, looking at Alice.
The woman nodded.
Once they were in the hallway, A.L. leaned close. “What’s your gut saying, Morgan?”
“It’s not very talkative right now. But we don’t have enough to take this much further.”
“Agree. But we start digging,” A.L. said.
Rena nodded. There would be little they didn’t know about Alice Quest. “I’ll shake her loose,” Rena said.
A.L. turned to walk back to his desk. Rena reentered Room 2. “Alice, we appreciate you coming in. That will be all for today.”
“Do you believe me?” Alice asked. “Do you believe that I had nothing to do with Emma Whitman’s disappearance?”
Rena said nothing.
“Listen to me, Detective,” Alice said, her voice hard. “If even a whiff gets out that I might be a suspect, my business will be ruined. I’m not going to let the Baywood Police Department do that to me. Do you understand?”
Again, Rena was silent.
Alice reached for her purse, which had been sitting on the floor by her feet. She opened it, tore a piece of paper from a small lined notebook and wrote a name on it. She shoved it across the table at Rena. “That’s my attorney’s name. If you need anything else from me, you call her.”
Sandra Whitley. Alice hadn’t included a number.
“We’ll do that,” Rena said.
Alice picked up her purse and walked out of the room.
Rena went back to her desk. Pulled out her chair. Sank into it. “I don’t know, I just don’t know,” she said.
A.L. was scrolling through his cell phone. He looked up. “We keep working the case. All we can do.”
Rena leaned her head back, far enough that she could study the ceiling tiles. Finally looked at him again. “Tell me why Tess called you Able.”
A.L. sighed. “When we were in California, I evidently spent a little too much time sleeping in a hammock. She was convinced that A.L. is short for Able Loafer.”
Rena laughed so hard that she almost fell out of her chair. “Thank you, A.L.,” she said, when she could finally talk. “I needed that. I really needed that.”
“Happy to help. Now I am going to take five minutes of personal time and go see my ex-wife and tell her to quit stalking Tess’s daughter.”
* * *
A.L. knocked on the front door of the house he used to live in. The house he’d liked. The house he’d painted and wallpapered, and where he’d cut the grass. The house that now felt very foreign to him.
The door swung open and Traci beamed at him. “Hey, Dad. It’s late. I didn’t know you were coming over.”
“Spur of the moment,” he said. “Did you check the peephole before you opened the door?”
“I’m the daughter of a cop. Of course I did. Checked it twice, to see if my visitor was naughty or nice.”
“Smart mouth,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Is your mom still up?”
“Yeah. In the kitchen.”
“Is she still dating Craig?”
“Why? You want to get back together?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Yes. I think she’s happy.”
“Good. Can you get her?” He stayed by the door, standing on ceramic tile flooring that he’d busted his ass to lay one summer weekend.
Traci narrowed her eyes. “Is this about me?”
“No,” he said honestly. “No more questions.”
“Okay. May the best man-slash-woman win.” She bounced down the hallway, her ponytail swinging. Damn, he loved that kid.
In a minute, Jacqui walked down the hallway. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. She’d put on a few pounds over the last ten years and it was starting to gather around her hips. But she was still an attractive woman, he supposed. “Do you have a minute?”
She nodded, her eyes guarded.
Jacqui wasn’t a dumbshit. She had to know that she’d crossed the line by going to see Tess’s daughter. But she had never liked to admit that she was wrong and he suspected that wasn’t going to be different today.
“I am aware,” he said, “that Tess Lyons ran into Traci at the mall the other night. And I am also aware that you just happened to be on the campus of UW-Eau Claire in the dining hall where Tess’s daughter eats.”