Heaven to Betsy (Emily #1) by Pamela Fagan Hutchins

“That’s crazy right there, to say you’re not crazy.”
    I laughed. “Would you believe this is my first murder defendant? My first criminal case, even. I just started yesterday. I’ve been a civil litigation paralegal for nearly ten years. In Dallas.”
    Ding. We entered the elevator and Snowflake paced and whined. I prayed the call wouldn’t drop and that the dog could hold it until we got outside. The doors closed and we descended.
    The connection held up, and Wallace continued. “So you don’t know the first thing about anything, do you, girl? Of course not. You just moved to Amarillo. The real question is why do a damn fool thing like that?”
    The elevator doors opened at the ground floor, and we exited—me calmly, and Snowflake like the place was on fire.
    “I can’t say I didn’t know better. I grew up here.” Snowflake all but came unhinged as we walked outside to the Maxor courtyard. A huge outdoor kitchen area on the far side of a stone patio dominated the space, but the whole square area was surrounded by grass and mature oak trees nestled against the building’s L-shape. Outside a black metal fence, downtown buzzed by us on two sides.
    Wallace laughed once, loud, like a bark. “I’m so sorry.”
    I unclipped Snowflake. Her tags jingled as she bounded into the grass and got down to her business. Atta girl. She looked at me with something like relief on her little features.
    “Yeah, I know, but waddaya gonna do?”
    “Tell me about it. I got transferred here from Houston. Well, I’d be happy to help you in any way I can. You just say the word and Wallace is on the way.”
    “I’ll take you up on it, and soon. But let me just ask you: Are the police and CPS still actively looking for Valentina?”
    His tone darkened. “Absolutely. This mama may be crazy as a June bug, but if there’s even the slightest chance some little six-year-old girl is out there alone with all the predators there are in this world, I simply will not give up until I find her.”
    His words filled me like helium, and it was so real I imagined I’d sound like Minnie Mouse when I spoke. He was one of the
truly
good guys. I bagged up Snowflake’s leave-behind and tossed it in the trash before we reentered the building. The dog pranced like she owned the place now.
    “Good. Did Sofia tell you anything about bad men she was afraid of?” I asked. “Afraid would get Valentina? She hinted at this with us and then clammed up.”
    “Huh-uh,” he said. “And that would be weird, since she told me she just let the girl stay at home with the door locked while she was at work.”
    That felt wrong. Sofia didn’t seem like the kind of mother to leave her six-year-old at home alone, especially if she was scared of bad men. We hopped an elevator going up.
    “Nothing about the father?” I asked.
    “She said he was dead.”
    “Okay, she didn’t give you much more than she gave us, then.”
    The doors parted at our floor. Snowflake lunged against the leash, panting and straining toward the office. I tugged her gently in the other direction and she looked up at me, confused.
    “Well, your bad guy angle is new to me,” Wallace said. “Listen, the police are still going door-to-door and talking to informants, checking in with homeless shelters, and rousting people in all the usual types of places kids go in that area. We’ll keep looking for her. And you let me know if you guys learn anything, okay?”
    I pushed the bathroom door open and let Snowflake walk in first.
    “I will,” I said.
    Then I had a thought—I didn’t want to go alone to the shady areas I’d have to visit as I searched for information on Sofia.
    “I’m going to visit witnesses that may have information about Valentina on Monday,” I said. “Some you may have already talked to, but sometimes people decide to open up when you circle back to them. One of them you didn’t mention, though. The woman whose identity Sofia used to get a job.”
    I’d