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sometimes it’s caused problems between us. Her changing her name, for instance—”
    “She changed her name?” That would complicate things.
    “Yes. Not legally. Last year she started singing at some open-mike nights at places around the area, and she began calling herself Raven. She thought using a single name was classy. Like Cher. Or Sting.”
    Or Quasimodo, I thought irreverently. Or Beelzebub. Or—
    He was speaking again. “We figured her abandoning her family name was a phase, although it hurt Ruth’s feelings.”
    “Is she any good?”
    That question produced a wry grimace. “She’s good enough to have gotten a job at The Embers dinner theater in Milford, so the raw material is there, but frankly she needs professional training. We offered to pay for some lessons, but she insisted she already had her own style, and was insulted.”
    When you’re immature, it doesn’t take much to do that. With an attitude like that, I wondered if she hadn’t just gone to New York or somewhere to get discovered.
    Which prompted me to ask, “Did she quit her job?”
    “No. She didn’t. My daughter’s had all the standard angst. School, dating, varying career choices, you name it. She has a tender side and has even spoken once or twice about someday becoming a doctor in a Third World clinic. She hates suffering in all its forms.”
    I nodded once. “Maybe you’d better give me the chronology of what happened.”
    His expression brightened a little. “You’ll help us then?”
    “We’ll see. Let’s just say I’m keeping an open mind.”
    “Thank you.” Unconsciously he began rubbing his hands together.
    Below, down on the street the Madison city workers picked that exact time to start in with their jackhammers, the noise sounding for all the world like combatants in a World War II firefight.
    His voice grew louder over the din. “As I said, Sarah works as a server and performer at The Embers. She loves the fact she can sing and work in a place like that, and she gets along well with her co-workers. She gets along well with everyone, she always has…”
    He must have realized he was beginning to wander again as he trailed off. With that infernal racket, I couldn’t blame him. Rocking back, I peered at the workers out the window through the slats of the ivory miniblinds.
    With an effort he got himself back on track. “Last Monday morning she left earlier than normal. The place was launching a new menu, and they told her they needed her there by eight to familiarize herself with it. Then after that she had a rehearsal with the cast. She said she’d be home by four to get cleaned up because later that evening she and Ted were going to a club.”
    “Who’s Ted?” I faced him again. “And what club?”
    “Ted Larch is just a friend. He and Sarah have known each other since childhood. He’d like to be more than a friend, I’m sure, but Sarah’s not interested. She said she really isn’t ready for a deeper commitment. But as far as the name of the club … I’m sorry.”
    The street noise suddenly ceased. Maybe they’d struck oil.
    I began writing again. “So four o’clock came and went and no Sarah?”
    “That’s correct. Ruth and I figured it was just afternoon traffic. Milford is really starting to grow. But by five we were getting worried, and Ted was due to pick up Sarah at six.”
    “Surely somebody called her.”
    “I did. I rang her cell, wondering if she was stuck in traffic or had stopped at a store. Then I phoned the restaurant, thinking maybe she’d worked overtime, but the manager said she’d clocked out at three forty-five. Really agitated now, I emailed her, text messaged her, everything I could think of. But there was no answer. We wondered if she might have been in a wreck and checked with the police and local hospitals. Nothing. Then we called all her friends. They hadn’t heard from her either.” Cahill grew more agitated. “By that time we were becoming frantic. Where could