LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Helen called me. I was in the middle of cleaning out Anna’s garden shed when my phone rang.
“No, I haven’t had time to look through Joan’s things,” I started with.
“That’s not why I’m calling,” she said. “I’ve been looking into Randy Earl.”
“What have you found?”
I heard paper rustling in the background. “Turns out Randy Earl was quite well known in Baltimore twenty years ago, at least among police and mental health professionals. Several arrests for disturbing the peace, assaults, several psych holds. And he was hospitalized for several weeks at a time over the course of several years.” She looked up from the file. “He was definitely in the same hospital Joan was at the same time she was. Like Anna told you. That’s where they met.”
“Where is he now?”
Hele
