“What’s happening today?”

“Arthur, I’m parked outside Julian’s house,” I said.

I told him about the sticky brown liquid in Chloe’s cereal bowl, the new brass deadbolt mounted high on her door frame, and the warehouse receipt for the mahogany casket.

Over the speaker I heard the faint rustle of fabric as Arthur took off his wire-rimmed glasses to polish them on his tie, the way he did before saying something hard.

“Did you lay eyes on the child yourself, Brenda?” Arthur asked.