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“I hope you’re reading something improving,” she said.

“Little Dorrit.” I showed her the cover to prove I wasn’t lying. “I aim to get through all of Dickens by next year, except afterLittle Dorrit, I only have the difficult novels left, the ones that make even hardened Dickensians suck their teeth in a concerned manner. I fear I may run out of steam.”

“Or you may die. I’m surprised you’ve survived long enough to get as far asLittle Dorrit.”

“I hear that a lot—oddly, with the same tone of wistfulness you just adopted.”

“It’s important to live in hope. What do you want, Mr. Parker?”

“I’d like to buy you lunch.”

“I’m married.”

“We can sit at separate tables if it makes you happier.”

“Nothing would make me happier about having lunch with you, except not having lunch with you.”

She walked away. I fell into step beside her and held the door as we moved outside, because Mother raised a gentleman.

“I’m looking for a missing veteran,” I said.

“Then I wish you luck, and better luck to him.”

“He may have been involved in the abduction of children from Mexico.”

Saunders stopped walking.

“You know,” she said, “today was a good day until now.”

“Sorry.”

“Really?”

“Not so much,” I replied. “But at least you won’t have to pay for your lunch.”

THERE WEREN’T MANY PLACESto eat by the VA Medical Center, so we drove in convoy about three miles northwest to the Countryside Diner, where I stopped for takeout sandwiches and sodas before continuing to the parking lot of the Viles Arboretum. I pulled in beside Saunders’s Escalade, and we found a bench where we could sit and talk. I told her what I’d learned about Wyatt Riggins while Saunders ate an egg salad sandwich.

“They get themselves into such quandaries, these men,” she said.

“Some more than others.”

“And you’ve no idea who these children might be?”

“Only that if Jason Rybek is right, and Riggins wasn’t fantasizing because of weed and booze, they’re connected to Blas Urrea, who can hardly be faulted for coming after them. If Riggins is running, it’s because he’s afraid Urrea may have his name on a list.”

“What do you intend to do about it?”

“Try to find Riggins—and the children too.”

“Why not just go to the police with what you know?”

“Right now, all I have is a drunken hearsay conversation at Ruski’s, and the person who told me about it could be at risk from his employer if it’s discovered that he’s been speaking out of turn—and by ‘at risk,’ I don’t mean the loss of medical and dental, though he may need bothonce Devin Vaughn’s people have finished with him. I’m not even sure I could get in touch with him again if the police asked me to. If I were Rybek, I wouldn’t surface until winter comes around again. But I’m also worried that if I make this official, Vaughn may decide to cut his losses and dispose of the children, if he hasn’t already. No kids, no evidence, no crime.”

“Is Vaughn holding them for ransom?” Saunders asked.

“He’s hurting for money, but kidnapping children possibly belonging to a Mexican crime lord doesn’t seem like the most advisable way to improve his finances. Even if Vaughn succeeded in getting a ransom paid, Urrea isn’t just going to walk away and swallow the pain. Vaughn would never be able to sleep with both eyes closed again.”

“Revenge, then?”