"We just need to talk to Mark about what happened last night," Jeffrey told Patterson as Lena continued her survey of the room. She stopped midturn, seeing a picture of Jesus hanging over the fireplace. His pierced and bleeding hands were open in the classic "let's be pals" Jesus pose. Jeffrey seemed to notice the painting at the same time, too, because he was staring at Lena when she made herself look away. He raised his eyebrows, as if to ask if she was all right. Lena could feel rather than see Patterson assessing this exchange. Of course he had heard about what happened to Lena. She could only imagine what kind of pleasure Patterson was getting out of reviewing the details of her assault in his mind. The hold this gave Patterson over Lena was suffocating, and she made herself look the other man right in the eye. He held her gaze for just a second, then glanced down at her hands.

She knew exactly what he was looking for, and Lena was fighting the urge to tuck her hands into her pockets when a small woman with a ravaged look about her walked up the hallway, asking, "Teddy? Did you get my pills?"

She stopped when she saw Jeffrey and Lena, putting her hand to her neck. "What's this about?"

"Police," Patterson said, looking away quickly. Something like guilt flashed in his eyes, as if his wife might guess what he had been thinking about Lena a few seconds before.

"Well," she said, a wry look on her face. "Tell me something I don't know."

She was a small woman, probably no taller than Lena 's own five-foot-four. Her dark blonde hair was thin, her scalp showing through in places. She looked almost emaciated, like pictures Lena had seen in history books of Holocaust survivors. There was strength to her, though, and Lena imagined this was the woman who was responsible for keeping the trailer so neat and organized. Underneath her sickly appearance, she had the stance of a person who knew how to take care of things.

"I knew you were coming," the woman said, "so I know I shouldn't feel surprised." Her hand stayed at her neck, nervously playing with a charm on her necklace. Lena guessed from the Jesus on the wall that it was a cross.

"Mrs. Patterson?" Jeffrey asked.

"Grace," she told him, holding out her hand. Jeffrey shook it, and Lena took the opportunity to let herself study Teddy Patterson. He watched his wife and Jeffrey with a slack expression on his face. His shoulders stooped somewhat when his wife was in the room, and he did not seem so threatening in her presence.

"We want to talk to Mark," Jeffrey told the woman. "Is he around?"

Grace Patterson gave her husband a worried look.

Patterson told his wife, "Why don't you sit down, hon?" Then, as if he needed to explain this to Jeffrey, he said, "She's been sick lately."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jeffrey said. He sat down by Grace on the couch and nodded to Lena, indicating that she should sit as well. Lena hesitated, but did as she was directed, sitting in one of the chairs.

The light coming through the window hit Grace Patterson just right, and Lena could see how pale she was. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her lips were an unnatural shade of pinkish-blue. Lena realized the woman matched the living room perfectly.

Grace spoke. "I appreciate your not interrogating Mark last night, Chief Tolliver. He was very upset."

Jeffrey said, "It's understandable that he would need some time to recover from what happened."

Teddy Patterson snorted at this. Lena was not surprised. Men like Teddy Patterson did not think that people needed to recover from things. He was actually more like Lena in that regard. You dealt with it and you got over it. Or, at least you tried and did not whine about it.

"Is his sister around?" Jeffrey asked. "We'd like to talk to her, too."

"Lacey?" Grace said, putting her hand to her necklace again. "She's at her grandmother's right now. We thought it would be best."

Jeffrey asked, "Where was she last night?"

"Here," Grace answered. "She was taking care of me." She swallowed, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I don't usually ask her to stay with me, but I had a very bad night, and Teddy had to work." She gave him a weak smile. "Sometimes the pain gets to be too much for me. I like having my children around."

"But Mark wasn't here?" Jeffrey said, even though that much was obvious.

Her face clouded. "No, he wasn't. He's been a bit difficult to control lately."

"He smacked up his sister a while back," Patterson told them. "I guess you got that on his sheet. He's a real shit, that boy. Nothing good coming from him."

Grace did not make a sound, but her disapproval traveled through the room.

"Sorry," Patterson apologized. He actually looked contrite. Lena wondered at the hold Grace had over her husband. In the space of a few short minutes, she had subdued the man.

Patterson said, "I'll go fetch Mark," and left the room.

Lena caught herself running her tongue along the back of her teeth again. For some reason, she could not speak. There were questions to ask, and Lena knew that Jeffrey wanted them to come from Lena, but she was too preoccupied to focus. Her goal was to get out of this trailer and away from Teddy Patterson as quickly as possible. The truth was that even with his wife sitting three feet away, and Jeffrey right beside her, Lena felt scared. More than that, she felt threatened.

Lena tried to take her mind off the claustrophobia she was feeling. She stared off into the kitchen, which was roomy but not large. Strawberry wallpaper lined the walls, and there was even a clock with a strawberry on it over the kitchen table.

Grace cleared her throat. "Mark has had a bad time lately," she said, picking up where she had left off. "He's been in and out of trouble at school."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Patterson," Jeffrey said. He sat up on the couch, probably to establish a sense of rapport. "How about Lacey?"

"Lacey has never been in trouble a day in her life," Grace told him. "And that's the God's truth. That child is an angel."

Jeffrey smiled, and Lena could guess what he was thinking. Usually the angels were the ones who committed the most heinous crimes. "Is she dating any boys?"

"She's thirteen," Grace told him, as if that answered it. "We don't even let boys call the house."

"She couldn't have been seeing anyone on the side?"

"I don't see how," Grace answered. "She's home from school every day when she's supposed to be. Whenever she goes out, it's always with a group of her girlfriends and she always comes back in time for her curfew."

Lena could sense Jeffrey trying to catch her eye, but she ignored him.

He asked, "What time is her curfew?"

"School nights we don't let her go out, of course. Fridays and Saturdays, nine o'clock."

"Does she ever sleep over with anybody?"

Grace looked as if she had just realized that Jeffrey's interest in Lacey was more calculated than she had originally thought. The look was similar to the one Dottie Weaver had given Lena just hours before, but there was far more menace in Grace Patterson than there had been in Dottie Weaver.

She demanded, "Why are you asking so many questions about my daughter? It was Mark that little girl pointed the gun at."

Jeffrey said, "Dottie told us that Lacey and Jenny were friends."

"Well…" she began, the hesitancy still there as she obviously tried to think a step ahead of Jeffrey's questions. Finally, she said, "Yes, they were friends. Then something happened and they stopped hanging around each other." She shrugged. "I guess it's been a few months since that happened. We haven't seen Jenny around for a while, and I know Lacey hasn't gone over to her house."

"Did she tell you why?"

"I assumed it was some silly little disagreement."

"But you didn't ask her?"