Several appeared to fall on afternoons when I was scheduled to work.

Others matched days when Carter had urged me to stay late at the office because he could “handle everything.” I stared at those words in old messages and felt the ground shift beneath me.

It had sounded like generosity.

In context, it was something else.

Yet the messages still had to be examined alongside pickup logs and medical records.

I signed the paperwork authorizing the lawful release of the materials I could provide and let the investigators pursue the rest.

I was tempted to call everyone who had ever praised Carter for being a hands-on father.