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bedroom, homework done, read to and tucked in. She had just made that last maternal visit of the night—where she poked her head in through the doorway, letting the wan light from the hallway toss just enough illumination onto the faces of the two children so that she could tell they slept soundly. No nightmares. Even breathing. Not even a sniffle that might signal an oncoming cold. There were some single parents she knew in the support group she occasionally frequented who could hardly bear to tear themselves away from sleeping children. It was as if during the night they were all vulnerable. All the evils that had created their circumstances seemed to have freer rein after sunset. A time that should have been devoted to rest and renewal had devolved into one filled with uncertainty, worry, and fears.
    But all was right this night, she thought.
    All was safe.
    Everything was normal.
    She left the door ajar just an inch or two and started to pad down to the bathroom when she heard the phone ring in the kitchen.
    She glanced at a wall clock as she hurried to answer. Too late to be anything but trouble, she thought.
    It was the night dispatcher at police headquarters.
    “Detective, I have a distraught woman on the other line. I believe you’ve handled calls from her before. Apparently, we have another runaway.”
    Detective Terri Collins knew immediately who it was that the dispatcher had on hold. Maybe this time Jennifer actually got away … But this was unprofessional and getting away was only callous shorthand for trading a familiar set of terrors for a wholly different and potentially worse type.
    “I’ll be with you in a moment,” Terri said. She slipped easily from mother mode into police detective. One of her strengths was her ability to separate the different dimensions of her life into neat, orderly groups. Too many years of too much upheaval had created in her a driving need for simplicity and organization.
    She put the dispatcher on hold while she dialed a second number, one that she kept on a list by the kitchen phone. An advantage of having been through what she had experienced was the informal network of help available. Luckily, the woman she dialed was a dedicated night owl. “Hello, Laurie, it’s Terri. I hate to bother you at this late hour, but…”
    “You’ve been called in on a case and you need me to watch the kids?”
    Terri could actually hear enthusiasm in her friend’s voice.
    “Yes.”
    “Be right over. No problem. My pleasure. How late do you think you’ll be?” Terri smiled. Her friend Laurie was an insomniac of the first order, and Terri knew that she secretly loved being called in the middle of the night, especially to watch over children, now that her own had grown up and moved away. It gave her something to do other than uselessly watching late-night cable or pacing anxiously about her darkened house talking to herself about everything that had gone wrong in her life. This was, Terri had learned, a lengthy conversation.
    “Hard to say. At least a couple of hours. But probably late. Maybe even all night.”
    “I’ll bring my toothbrush,” Laurie replied.
    She hit the HOLD button and reconnected with the police dispatcher.
    “Tell Mrs. Riggins I’ll be at her home within thirty minutes to talk to her and get an investigation started. Are uniformed officers there?”
    “They have been dispatched.”
    “Let them know I’ll be along shortly. They should take down any preliminary statements so we can put a time line together. They should also try to settle Mrs. Riggins down.”
    Terri doubted they would be successful at this.
    “Ten-four,” the dispatcher replied, disconnecting the line.
    Laurie would be over within minutes. That was her neighbor’s style. She hung up the phone. Laurie liked thinking she was an integral part of whatever investigation or crime scene that Terri was being called to, as important as a forensic technician or fingerprint expert. This was a