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Dana stoodin Dvita’s office while Richter and his team photographed the scene. She was in the way, having to move every few seconds to avoid being in the shot. Dvita’s lawyer had shown up making sure no one ventured to other areas of the house so her only option was to wait in the car or remain in the crowded office.

She decided to stay put. Something was keeping her there. She let her gaze rove over every inch of the office, waiting for some new discovery to jump out at her. Rows of pristine built-in shelves lined with books mocked her, their pages whispering the promise of secrets that just might be the answer, but she was unable to touch them.

Dvita’s lawyer perched in the doorway like a hawk, waiting for someone to make a false move.

“Excuse me,” Agent Garcia said, nodding to the portion of the room yet to be photographed.

Dana moved out of the way, stopping next to Dvita’s desk. A hunter green ink blotter was the only color on the mahogany monstrosity. He’d even chosen a leather planner in the same reddish-brown hue as the tropical hardwood. She looked at the date staring back at her. It was off. The planner’s pages lay open to a date two days past.

That seemed out of character for someone as meticulous as Dr. Dvita.

She glanced at the lawyer, whose attention was occupied by Agent Garcia. Dana quickly scanned the planner, reading the handwritten notes scrawled in Dvita’s overindulgent cursive. Clients’ names with appointment times dominated the page. Everything looked normal until she got to the small, shaded box at the bottom of the page labeled: Don’t Forget. There were two things scribbled there. The word Milk and the number 241, which was circled twice.

She stared at the number, letting it rub against the shadowy recesses of her mind until all at once it clicked.

Meredith!