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what shows up, but I don’t want that photo out there yet.”
    “She’s what . . . twenty-seven now?” Paul asked.
    “Yes. She appears to have a good hold on her emotions for now—either that or she can show you what she wants you to see. I think she has a mental checklist for the chronology she wants everything to proceed on, and she’s simply going to balk if pushed to take another course.”
    Paul handed the phone to Ann, who studied the image long enough to memorize it, then handed back the phone.
    “One immediate suggestion,” Paul offered, “is to build a photo array of people she can trust with names and contact numbers. Start with us. Take a photo. Show it to her. Give her our contact information. Go track down your friends at this conference and put the word out if Shannon calls, she gets helped, no questions asked.”
    Matthew saw immediately why he needed Paul and Ann’s help. He should have thought of that step himself. “That’s a solid idea. I’ll get it done tonight.”
    “I’ve got a phone you can give her,” Ann offered, getting to her feet. “Give me a second. I think it’s in my briefcase.” She looked at her husband. “That birthday gift for your nephew?”
    “If it’s not in your briefcase, it’s in mine.”
    Ann found it and returned. “A basic phone, as he likes to hike and keeps losing them. There’s a thousand minutes prepaid on it. You might as well have her unwrap it. Blue wrapping paper is probably not her color, but I doubt she’s had a lot of gifts recently.”
    Matthew accepted it with a smile. “She’ll appreciate it.”
    Ann took a seat beside her husband. “Do you think she might be willing to have breakfast with us here in the suite?”
    “I can offer, but I’m not prepared to pressure her.” He looked over to Paul. “I don’t mind you backtracking hotel security video on her, learning what you can, but I’d like your word you won’t follow her if she leaves this hotel.”
    “I’m comfortable with that, at least for the first few days,” Paul assured him. “We spook her, our chance of arresting who did it drops below fifty percent. She’s chosen to trust you. That’s where this has to start. I’d simply ask that you let informationflow both directions without much delay when you know something.”
    Matthew nodded his thanks. “That’s not a problem.”
    “The cold-case detective who currently has the case is Theodore Lincoln,” Ann told him. “You’ll like Theo. He’s thorough and careful and the right mix of patient cop and calm detective. He’s the one you want Shannon to talk with when she finally agrees to have a conversation with law enforcement.”
    “I’m thinking I’ll give her that case summary report you printed out and then ask her if she’d like to speak with the guy who wrote it.”
    “That might work,” Ann said. “Just for my own curiosity—how are you feeling tonight, Matthew, about all of this? Her sudden appearance, her choosing you?”
    He grinned. “Notes for a book?”
    “Humor me.”
    “I’m deeply aware there is no margin for error right now. Shannon’s in the initial euphoria, the joy and relief of freedom stage, showing the first signs of the fatigue that comes on the downslope of those emotions. She’s like a fine-blown glass vase that has a hairline crack running through it, and someone just picked it up. The die is already cast. Set the vase down too hard and it’s going to shatter. Ease it down and apply some glue, it holds together. If she doesn’t shatter in the next six months, I’ll have been a help to her. But I can’t predict how this is going to go. I’m concerned I’m too much in the dark about what happened that I could make matters worse, because I’m working blind about what she’s been through.”
    “She doesn’t know how fragile she is,” Ann stated quietly.
    “I don’t think she has a clue. After the fatigue will comethe nerves that rip apart on sounds, smells,