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be a pedophile or something. Whack jobs.”
    Gabe met her misty blue eyes. “I’m sure they looked at Lalia’s dad and stepdad very closely too, simply because they were the men in the children’s lives.”
    “They shouldn’t have looked at them at all. That Shylah’s the witch. She never should have been allowed to teach in the first place!” She pressed her long fingers into her palm, leaving half-moon marks.
    “Statistically, children are more likely to be murdered by someone close to them, family or otherwise, which is why the police looked so closely at the fathers.”
    “Don’t talk to me about statistics!” She ended with the volume of a scream, then downed half her bottle of beer.
    “Do you work, Mrs. Horton?”
    “I’m night manager at the apartments.”
    “Which apartments?”
    “The only ones we got, the Smith Creek Villa.”
    He asked her for the address and a few other details. She said she was usually alone in the office, since nighttime needs were rare, but she was there to be on call if someone needed emergency maintenance. She could do some fixes herself, but usually she was the go-between to find the right specialist for the trouble.
    “Do you have a full-time maintenance man during the day, or someone you turn to frequently?” Apartments had all sorts of private nooks and crannies—supply closets, deserted Laundromats, the office itself, bathrooms, under the stairs, between dumpsters and fences. Plus a load of renters, often more transient than house owners.
    “Our day guy is Larry Coleridge, but he refuses to come out for nighttime calls. I use Paul Strong of Strong’s Plumbing the most for overnight disasters. What does this have to do with Matthew?” The sadness had become ingrained in her face, overshadowing her long-held cheerleader captain confidence.
    “Did Matthew ever visit you at work or come to the apartments for any reason?”
    Mrs. Horton bit her lip. “He’s…he used to be…with me when I went in to get my paycheck Friday afternoons. Never at night…” She paused in thought. “I did bring him with me one night when Michael got stuck at work for an overnight inventory, but he never left the office and spent most of his time asleep on the couch.”
    “No one came in while he was there, spoke to him?”
    She tapped her bottom lip with her index finger. “I think Paul may’ve come in once when Matthew was there, but I honestly can’t remember if he spoke to him or if Matthew was asleep. If he was, Paul may’ve noticed him on the couch. I never once left him alone.” Her voice took on a defensive tone.
    “Mrs. Horton, please don’t feel I’m blaming you at all. I know I’m covering much of the same ground as Angela’s previous detectives, but perhaps I’ll find something new they missed, however unlikely.”
    “Our detectives.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “They were our detectives too. We paid our share. We wouldn’t sit here and do nothing for our boy.”
    “I’m sorry. Of course you did. It’s just the fact that I’m Angela’s cousin that I referred to her only, a slip of the tongue.” When she nodded, Gabe asked for the phone numbers of everyone she worked with at the apartments and directions to the Lowe’s to find her husband.
    “So, do you think you might find something new?” Mrs. Horton’s eyes lit up for just a moment as they both stood.
    “As I told Angela, please, don’t get your hopes up. Even if I do find a crumb that was missed before, it doesn’t mean it will prove anything.” He patted her shoulder. “Not to make light of things, but I’m here so my Aunt Eldora, Angela’s mom, will start speaking to me again.”
    The woman gave him a wan smile. “Family is so important.”
    That it was. Years ago, Gabe had married a Protestant woman. Since he’d been pretty much a lapsed Catholic since high school, her religious denomination hadn’t seemed like a big deal to him. But his devout Catholic father flipped out, particularly when