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lose you.” He dug through his papers. “It’s a project management job for a new release — make sure the software is compliant with Common Criteria — you know, government stuff.” He handed her the paper and went back to his screen.
    She scanned the job posting.
    He clicked a few keys and looked up. “Sorry, Annie, I really need to get this presentation out. Anything else?”
    “Do you know the reporting manager?” She looked back down at the papers. “Jim Borzetti? Have you heard anything about him? Will the company pay for relocation?”
    Randy gestured at the paper in her hand. “That’s all I know about the job. Contact the manager who posted the job and ask him. I’ll be happy to give you a good reference. He might want to see you for an interview. Those East Coast managers are big on ‘face time.’ Can you handle that?”
    “I suppose.” Damn! She hadn’t been on an interview in years. What if she flubbed it?
    He rubbed his temples. “I know change is tough. Until the economy turns around, it’s going to be like this for a while. Be glad you have a shot at a job.” He turned back to his screen.
    “Thanks, Randy.” She put her hand on the doorknob.
    “Annie? One more thing. I know doing interviews is tough, but you can handle it. You know your field and you’re good at what you do.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Good luck.” The click of the computer keys restarted.
    When she got to her office, she took out her list, carefully crossed out “Randy” and put in “NJ Director Jim … ” She glanced at the papers Randy had given her. “ … Borzetti.”
    She plugged in her hot pot for tea, brought up a browser on her computer and searched for “Common Criteria.” A quick scan of the organization’s website told her why the project was a problem. Documentation was needed — lots of documentation. And one thing that programmers hated to do was documentation.
    Ugh.
    While the tea brewed, she composed an e-mail introducing herself to Jim. She finished it and read it over and over, making minute corrections until it was as perfect as she could get it. She pressed Send.
    She put a squiggle next to item Number 3 on her list. Started, but not finished. She spent the rest of the day cleaning out her office, tying up loose ends of the project that was ending and going to meetings. At the end of the day, there was still no response from Jim.
    David wasn’t home when she got there. A note on the refrigerator said, “Out with Larry. Be back later.”
    Her stomach gave a queasy lurch. She had a bad feeling about Larry. He hadn’t been able to look her in the eye when they’d met. Instead, his eyes had darted everywhere, as if he were on the lookout for an opportunity — or trouble. Should she forbid David to see him? What reason could she give — that she didn’t like the way he dressed? He had shifty eyes? And would forbidding him really change what David did when she wasn’t around? She sighed. Time to start dinner. She’d make spaghetti carbonara , another of David’s favorites.
    The pasta water had started to boil when the phone rang.
    “Mrs. Renquist?” a male voice asked.
    “Ms. Gerhard, but yes, I used to be Mrs. Renquist. Who’s this?”
    “This is Detective Ramos at the Costanoa Police Station. We have your son in custody.”
    • • •
    Annie found the police station with no problem.
    “You have my son, David Renquist,” she said to the woman in the glass information booth.
    The woman flicked a look at her computer and hit a few keys. “Have a seat in the lobby. Detective Ramos will be out to get you.”
    In the background she could hear the sound of steel doors opening and closing. At every clank, her stomach turned.
    A middle-aged Latino in a light brown jacket and slacks bustled into the lobby. He ran his finger around the inside of his shirt collar, loosening it against a constricting tie as he walked toward her. “Ms. Gerhard?”
    “Yes.”
    “My name is Detective Ramos.”