"This gives me the creeps." April swiveled angrily. She knew what Mike was thinking. She'd talked to the girl and boy yesterday, let them go. He'd questioned them again today and hadn't been alerted to the danger. Both of them had missed the signals. She was not able to comfort herself with the fact that it happened all the time. It wasn't unusual to come back and question a suspect many times before getting the real story. It wasn't always so easy to nail someone. But in this case, Pee Wee might not have died. And somewhere Maslow might still be out there.

Mike gave Woody the Owens' number to check the garage. "Find out if David took the car out last night, will you?"

It was time to move. April touched his arm. "Did you ask David's and Brandy's mothers if there were any firearms in their homes?"

"Yes, April. I did. Neither family has an interest in guns. In fact, David said he's terrified of them."

"Well, Brandy is interested."

"Her mother said they both hated guns. Put on your vest anyway," he ordered.

"Okay, I'll borrow one for you."

"I don't need one," he protested.

"Rules is rules. I'll borrow one for you. You'll wear it."

He smiled. "It's nice to be together."

"Yeah, sure. How much backup are you thinking?" "They're just kids," Mike said. "Little crazy rabbits. We'll keep this thing low-key. The fewer people the better. What do you say?"

April nodded. They could call in for backup if things got hairy. Good thing Iriarte had gone home. One fewer person to worry about.

At eight-forty-five an astonished Janice Owen opened her front door to April, wearing navy slacks, and a jacket with "POLICE" in big yellow letters across the back.

"Mrs. Owen, I'm Sergeant Woo," April told her.

A tall man with blond hair, wearing a well-cut dark suit, appeared in the doorway beside Janice Owen. "What's this all about?" he asked, looking very surprised.

"Mr. Owen, I'm Sergeant Woo." April introduced herself again. "This is Detective Baum." Woody was standing behind her. He inclined his head but didn't say anything. He, too, was wearing a police jacket. The couple was horrified by them.

"Yes, yes. Hello. What's going on? Where's David?" He looked panicky.

"Do you mind if we come in?" April said gently.

There was a pause in which nobody moved. The couple locked eyes.

"No, of course not." Mr. Owen was the first to back away from the door. His wife was frozen. He took her arm and moved her back. "Come in. What's the problem?"

"Thank you." April entered and looked around the large foyer. It was every bit as grand as Mike had described it, but she was no longer intimidated by the trappings of wealth. She felt fortified by the jacket that broadcast her business. On Park Avenue no one was going to shoot her for wearing it. She was in a hurry to talk to the boy. Woody followed her inside. Two uniforms waited out in the elevator foyer. The Owens were in shock.

"We need to talk to your son, David," April told them.

"He isn't here. You'll have to come back." Mrs. Owen kept a wary eye on Woody, standing at ease, one hand holding the fingers of the other in front of his partially zipped jacket, as if she thought he might open fire at any moment with the pistol she knew was concealed in there.

"Where is he?" April was surprised. John had told her the boy was grounded.

Mrs. Owen raked a hand through her blond hair, talking quickly. "He's on his way home from a doctor's appointment. He called to say he's stuck in traffic."

"When was that?" April asked, pretty sure he was in the apartment.

"An hour ago. What is this all about?" Mrs. Owen was trying to stay cool. The hand raised to her throat was trembling.

They stood in the grand foyer, the two cops and the parents of the missing suspect. For April, having to telling someone a precious loved one was dead or injured was the worst thing in the world. Telling a parent that a loved child had hurt or killed someone else was almost as bad. These parents had no idea what was coming. Mr. Owen put his hand on his wife's shoulder. April could see him signal her to shut up.

"He took your car out last night," she said, starting with an easy one.

"Is there a problem with that? Borrowing the family car is not against the law. All kids do it." He looked at his wife. The kid took the car out. He hadn't known that.

April gave him a neutral face. "He's doesn't have a driver's license."

"So what?" The lawyer began to bluster like the wind kicking up in a storm.

Then the wife joined in. "A detective was here this afternoon, and we've had three other calls from the police this evening. Why are you harassing our son? He hasn't done anything."

April nodded at Woody. He escalated quickly.

"We're investigating a homicide, ma'am," he said.

"A homicide?" Mrs. Owen was astounded. "What could David know about a homicide?" She grabbed her husband's arm.

"What homicide, where-?" he responded to her alarm.

"We're not at liberty to talk about it at this time," Woody said, looking at his boss.

"Look, I can't let you talk to him until I know what this is all about. You can make an appointment and can talk to him with a lawyer present." Mr. Owen moved to open the door. The kid wasn't there. He wanted them to go. But it didn't work like that. He was just another parent who didn't know what was going on with his child and couldn't do anything to help him.

April felt a little sorry for them. "In ordinary circumstances that would be fine. But that won't be possible tonight. One man is dead, another is missing. David may be the only one who can help us find him."

"Oh God." His mother swooned.

"I'd like to see his room."

Janice Owen made a small cry, as if her whole world were coming to an end.

"I need to consult a lawyer about that," Mr. Owen said.

"For Christ's sake, you are a lawyer."

"Not a criminal lawyer, Janice."

"I'm not going to take anything at this time. But we have to secure the room," April interjected.

The two began to argue between themselves. Now was the time for blaming. Later would come the time for defending. April knew the whole story before they did. Her only interest was locating and talking to the boy. She found his room. He wasn't in it. It had a strong and not appealing boy smell that almost made her change her mind about taking something. But she did take something. She bagged the pillowcase on his unmade bed. Then she called in Officer Hays, who'd been waiting outside the apartment. He taped up the door of David's room with police tape and stayed behind to make sure no one went in and touched anything before they got a search warrant. April and Woody were out of there.

A few blocks uptown when Mike and several officers searched the apartment for Brandy, the completely hysterical Cheryl Fabman carried on a tirade against her missing daughter and the entire world. Neither mother could raise her child on the cell phone both had purchased to keep in constant touch.