wished he had a Katy Perry album, or one of the other musical horrors she listened to, just so she’d calm down a bit.
The studio was located between a car wash facility and a sad-looking hamburger joint. Someone had sprayed a heart in black spray paint on the studio’s wall and then tried to write names inside it. However, the heart was too small, and it ended up being the love declaration of blob + unreadable scrawl. Tatum wondered if Blob and Scrawl were still together and whether they had kids, perhaps named Smudge, Blot, and Splotch.
Zoe pressed the buzzer for much too long, resulting in a sharp, angry drone that made Tatum wince. They waited for ten seconds, and Zoe hit the buzzer again.
The door swung open, an irate man with a goatee standing in the doorway.
“Terrence Finch?” Tatum asked.
“Shhhhh!” The man put his finger on his lips and motioned them inside. They followed him, and the door closed behind them.
The studio was a very large room, tall lights in the corner, all aimed at the center. A large white fabric was stretched over the rear wall and the floor, littered with toys. A baby crawled on the fabric, chasing an orange ball. A photographer circled the set, taking photos of the toddler, who was utterly mesmerized by the ball.
The man who had opened the door ignored them, walking over to a woman who stood in the corner of the room. Both of them were staring at the baby with pure adoration. Tatum surmised that the man with the goatee wasn’t Terrence Finch; he was the child’s father. There was no real resemblance, but maybe the baby used to have a goatee, too, and they’d simply shaved it off for the photo shoot.
The photographer paused for a second to glance at Tatum and Zoe. “I’m Terrence. I’ll be with you in a moment,” he said, already turning back to the baby, who screamed in frustration as the ball rolled away.
Tatum watched as Terrence shifted around the setting, his camera repeatedly clicking. He was about forty, brown hair, his scalp peeking through in patches. He had a gangly body, his arms twisted in uncomfortable angles as he tried to get a good shot of the baby’s face.
The baby picked up a cube, put it on top of another cube, then added a third. But they weren’t aligned properly, and the tiny tower tumbled down. He let out a screech of outrage at the audacity of gravity.
“Try again, Leo,” the mother said encouragingly. Leo’s father looked frustrated, poised to move, as if at any moment he might step in, take over, and show Leo how you really build a tower with three cubes.
The session kept going for a few more minutes. The mother wanted Terrence to photograph Leo hugging the big teddy bear. Except Leo wasn’t in the mood. Whenever someone waved the teddy bear at the baby, he’d hurriedly crawl to the other side of the set, eyes wide in terror. The kid had good reflexes. Tatum approved. He would never let himself be mauled by a ferocious teddy bear.
Finally, confused by his parents’ instructions, Leo sat in the middle of the set and burst into tears. Terrence stopped photographing, probably realizing this was not a moment that Leo’s parents would want to frame and put on their mantel. The mother picked Leo up, and the family left, with Terrence promising to send them the pictures.
Once they were gone, Terrence nervously approached Tatum and Zoe. “Hi, sorry. You’re the special agent I talked to on the phone, right?”
Tatum nodded, showing his badge. “Agent Gray. This is my partner, Zoe Bentley.”
“This is about Catherine.” His eyes were wide and sad. His voice broke as he said her name, ending in a hoarse whisper.
“How well did you know Catherine?” Tatum asked.
“Pretty well. I’ve been going to the church for the past ten years,” Terrence said. “Everyone in our congregation knew her. I don’t know what will happen to the church now that she’s gone.”
“What about him?” Zoe asked, showing Terrence her phone. It was the image of Glover with Andrea. “Do you know him?”
Terrence glanced at it. “He’s in the church too. His name is Daniel.”
“How well do you know him?”
“I talked to him a few times. Seemed like a nice guy.”
“Did you see him talking to anyone in particular? Did he have any close friends?”
“Not that I noticed.”
“We were at the church this morning and saw the memorial,” Tatum said, taking