“Rosie,” I said, my voice tight in my throat. “Mia never leaves her outside. She never leaves her anywhere.”
The officer nudged the doll slightly with the toe of her black leather boot, then looked up at the heavy front door. She reached out and turned the brass handle, then pushed against the wood, testing the deadbolt.
“The mother-in-law,” Officer Boyd said, turning her head back toward me. “Does she have any history of memory lapses? Does she wander?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head quickly. “Lorraine is fifty-eight. She is very organized. She has never forgotten an appointment in her life.”
Officer Boyd looked toward the driveway, where my car sat alone. “Anyone else live here?”
“Her daughter, Cassandra,” I said, the name tasting like lead on my tongue. “But she usually stays in the city during the week.”
“Let us take a walk around the perimeter,” Officer Boyd said, gesturing for me to follow her down the porch steps.
