"One of those," Will said. He didn't know which was worse— family members who were so torn up with grief that you felt like they were reaching into your chest and squeezing your heart or family members who were so angry that you felt like they were squeezing you a little farther down.

He said, "Maybe you should have another go at Felix."

"He seemed pretty tapped out to me," Faith replied. "I probably couldn't get any more out of him than you did."

"Maybe talking to a woman—"

"You're good with kids," Faith interrupted, a hint of surprise in her tone. "More patient than me right now, anyway."

Will shrugged. He had helped out with some of the younger kids at the children's home, mostly to keep the new ones from crying all night and keeping everyone awake. He asked, "Did you get Pauline's work number from Leo?" Faith nodded. "We need to call and see if there's a Morgan there. Felix says the abductor dressed like him— maybe there's a kind of suit that Morgan favors. Also, our guy's about five-six with dark hair and a mustache."

"The mustache could be fake."

Will admitted as much. "Felix is smart for his age, but I'm not sure he can tell the difference between real and fake. Maybe Sara got something out of him?"

"Let's give them a few more minutes alone," Faith suggested. "You sound like you think Pauline's one of our victims."

"What do you think?"

"I asked you first."

Will sighed. "My gut is pointing that way. Pauline's well off, well employed. She's got brown hair, brown eyes." He shrugged, contradicting himself. "That's not much to hang your hat on."

"It's more than we had when we got up this morning," she pointed out, though he couldn't tell if she was agreeing with his gut or clutching at straws. "Let's be careful about this. I don't want to get Leo in trouble by snooping around his case, then leaving him hanging out to dry when nothing comes out of it."

"Agreed."

"I'll call Pauline McGhee's work and ask about Morgan's suits. Maybe I can get some information out of them without stepping on Leo's toes." Faith took out her phone and looked at the screen. "My battery is dead."

"Here." Will offered his. She took it gently in both hands and dialed a number from her notebook. Will wondered if he looked as silly as Faith did holding the two pieces of the phone to his face and figured he probably looked even more so. Faith was not really his type, but she was an attractive woman, and attractive women could get away with a lot. Sara Linton, for instance, could probably get away with murder.

"Sorry," Faith said into the phone, her voice raised. "I'm having trouble hearing you." She shot Will a look, as if this was his fault, before heading down the hall where the reception was better.

Will leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. Replacing the phone represented a seemingly insurmountable problem—the sort of problem that Angie usually handled for him. He'd tried to get the device replaced by calling the cell phone company, but they had told him he would have to go to the store and fill out paperwork. Assuming that miracle occurred, Will would then have to figure out the new features on the phone—how to set the ringtone to something that wouldn't annoy him, how to program in the numbers he needed for work. Will supposed he could ask Faith, but his pride kept getting in the way. He knew that she would gladly help him, but she would want to have a conversation about it.

For the first time in his adult life, Will found himself wishing that Angie would come back to him.

He felt a hand on his arm, then heard an "Excuse me" as a thin brunette opened the door to the doctors' lounge. He guessed she was Miss Nancy from social services, come to collect Felix. The day was early enough that the boy wouldn't immediately be taken to a shelter. There might be a foster family who could look after him for a while. Hopefully, Miss Nancy had been at this job long enough so that she had some good families who owed her favors. It was hard to place children who were in limbo. Will had been in limbo himself, just long enough to get to that age where adoption was almost impossible.

Faith was back. She had a disapproving frown on her face as she handed Will back his phone. "You should get that replaced."

"Why?" he asked, pocketing the phone. "It works fine."

She ignored his obvious lie. "Morgan only wears Armani, and he seemed pretty convinced that he's the only man in Atlanta with enough style to pull it off."

"So, we're talking anywhere from twenty-five hundred to five thousand dollars for a suit."

"I'd bet it's on the high end, judging by his haughty tone. He also told me that Pauline McGhee is estranged from her family, going back at least twenty years. He says she ran away at seventeen and never looked back. He's never heard her mention a brother before."

"How old is Pauline now?"

"Thirty-seven."

"Did Morgan know how to get in touch with her family?"

"He doesn't even know what state she's from. She didn't talk about her past much. I left a message on Leo's cell. I'm pretty sure he'll track down the brother before the day is out. He's probably already running all the fingerprints from her SUV."

"Maybe she's living under an alias? You don't run away from home at seventeen without a reason. Pauline's obviously doing pretty well for herself financially. Maybe she had to change her name to make that happen."

"Obviously, Jackie's been in touch with her family and hasn't changed her name. Her sister was going by Zabel, too." Faith laughed, pointing out, "All of their names rhyme—Gwendolyn, Jacquelyn, Joelyn. It's kind of weird, don't you think?"

Will shrugged. He'd never been able to recognize words that rhymed, a problem he thought might be coupled with his reading issues. Fortunately, it wasn't the sort of thing that came up much.

Faith continued, "I don't know what it is, but something about having a baby makes you think the stupidest names are beautiful." She sounded wistful. "I almost named Jeremy Fernando Romantico after one of the guys from Menudo. Thank God my mother put her foot down."

The door opened. Sara Linton joined them in the hallway, looking exactly how you'd expect someone to look if they felt like they'd just abandoned a child to social services. Will wasn't one to rail against the system, but the reality was that no matter how nice the social workers were, or how hard they tried, there weren't enough of them and they didn't get nearly the support they needed. Add to that the fact that foster parents were either the salt of the earth or money-hungry, child-hating sadists, and you quickly understood how soul-killing the entire enterprise could be. Unfortunately, it was Felix McGhee's soul that would pay the most.

Sara told Will, "You were good in there."

He fought the urge to smile like a kid who'd just been patted on the head.

Faith asked, "Did Felix say anything else?"

Sara shook her head. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," Faith answered, a defensive edge to her tone.

Sara said, "I heard about the second victim you found last night."