“I’d heard rumors that he offered certain services for his best customers,” Anne continued. “You live by rumors in this town, so I checked it out. He told me I’d be hearing from somebody. It couldn’t have been twenty minutes when your Mr. Levine called. I’m sure you know the rest.”

Neal was about to tell her not to be so sure when Graham interjected, “Your attorney should keep up his efforts, though, Ms. Kelley.”

“At his hourly, I’m sure he will,” Anne answered. “What happens now?”

“We start looking for your son and you take your eleven-thirty,” Neal answered as he got out of his chair.

“I love my little boy, Mr. Carey.”

“I’m sure you do, Ms. Kelley.”

“I’m not a bad mother.”

“Nobody said you were.”

“You were thinking it.”

Neal stepped over to the window and looked out at the studio lot, where the 1920s gangsters were heading to the cafeteria to beat the early lunch crowd.

“No,” he said, “I was thinking that you’re used to getting the story rewritten when you don’t like it the way it is. But this time it’s not a movie, it’s your son, and it’s not a story, it’s all too real. I’m thinking what a bitch these custody cases are, because while the law is on your side, it’s really on the sidelines. What it basically says is that once you get your child back, you can keep him. And while you’re handcuffed by the law, your husband does any goddamn thing he wants. And I was thinking about how frustrated, angry, and scared you must be.”

Anne drained the rest of her soda and lit another cigarette. It was a nice try, but it didn’t stop the tears from coming to her eyes. “I’m terrified,” she said. “I know Harley would never intentionally hurt Cody, but now… with what you’ve found out about these people…”

What people, Graham?

“… I’m afraid that I’ll never see my little boy again.”

“We’ll get him back,” Neal said. He was surprised to hear himself say it, surprised at the commitment in his voice.