A missing persons report was filed for Lucy within twenty-four hours of her disappearance. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat. "You won't refuse it, Mr. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. Here one might live the life of golden days. He, for his part, was trying to grasp the series of unexpected reactions that had so wrecked their tete-a-tete.
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