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smiling photo on a missing poster haunted her. Messy short brown hair. Freckles. Three earrings in her left lobe. She had last been seen crossing Union Street over the Gowanus Canal. Eventually, her cell phone was fished out of the murky water; it had been dropped midcall.
    “That’s right,” Frannie said. “There are some overlapping circumstances we feel warrant investigation. But it doesn’t mean anything other than that.”
    “I think that means a lot,” Alice said in a quiet voice. “Don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
    “What’s the good news?” Maggie asked.
    Giometti leaned forward, elbows pinioned to his knees. He had lovely, rich brown eyes with wisdom lines fanning at the temples. “We have no reason to think she’s dead. No evidence whatsoever. We never found Christine. Truth is, we really don’t know what happened to her.”
    “Years can pass,” Frannie said, “before you learn the truth. But that’s the worst-case scenario. Mostly we want to crack these right away.”
    Alice felt a shiver rise through her stomach. She read the newspaper religiously and knew the statistics, that if not found within the first twenty-four hours, a personwho went missing was usually either never found or was found dead.
    “The husband said you three are tight,” Frannie said. “But I already knew that.” She smiled more warmly than she had in the park the other day. Now Alice understood the young woman’s reserve among the group of mothers; she may as well have been visiting a different planet. Alice understood why Frannie had said her occasional visits to the playground kept her sane; what she saw in her police work had to be horrific. And why she had chosen to pay this visit; a current had passed between them that day, a moment of friendship. Alice understood all that yet had never felt more baffled. All she could see was the word HOMICIDE shining in raised black letters on Giometti’s card.
    “I’m glad it was me who caught the case.” Frannie’s eyes were dark as coal, Alice now noticed, with a swallowing depth. “We’re going to find her. Together. Okay?”
    Alice and Maggie both nodded in agreement. Yes, together they would find Lauren. And she would be fine. Still pregnant with Ivy. Together they would rewind time two days and start over.
    “So tell us about Lauren.” Frannie looked at Alice, then Maggie. “Tell us everything you can think of about her.”
    “She’s our sister,” Maggie said.
    Frannie glanced at Giometti, who sat slightly back in his chair, eyes glued to Maggie.
    “Like a sister,” Alice clarified.
    “When was the very last time you saw her?” Frannie asked.
    Alice’s reaction was to assume Frannie already knew the answer — the detective had been with them — but she didn’t say that. Instead she reiterated the facts: “That afternoon at the park. When I kissed her good-bye.”
    “Same for me,” Maggie said. “We said good-bye at the park.”
    Frannie and Giometti listened as Alice and Maggie finished each other’s sentences, sharing the story of their last afternoon with Lauren. Where one erred, the other corrected; often they overlapped for emphasis. They were eager to tell the detectives everything they could to help clarify the picture of Lauren’s life. Frannie was particularly interested in Lauren’s relationship with Tim. Alice felt slightly uncomfortable divulging the details of Lauren’s private life, but knew she had to if it might help. Giometti pulled a small pad and pen from his shirt pocket and began taking occasional notes so selectively that Alice cringed each time he leaned over to write.
    “They have a good marriage,” Alice said.
    “He’s a solid husband,” Maggie added. “She has few complaints.”
    “What complaints?” Frannie asked.
    “Nothing, really,” Maggie said. “He works late all the time. Things like that.”
    “They were happy,” Alice added.
    Maggie corrected her: “They are happy.”
    Alice held