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  Opening the folder, she spread it on her lap, too impatient to move to the comfort of her desk. She flipped through countless scraps of paper, coffee-stained notes, and even an ancient school record listing all of Erin’s classmates. Robert may have thought his rough notes didn’t contain any pertinent information but it was obvious he’d worked zealously on Erin’s investigation, long after official interest had fizzled. Some of his pages had been torn from notebooks, tattered and barely legible. But he’d also documented numerous visits to Nikki’s house.

  At the time, she’d thought he was bringing companionship and groceries, trying to help her dysfunctional mother through a dark time. But now she remembered his persistent interest in Erin’s friends: who they dated, how they acted and the types of cars they drove.

  Robert’s questions had been gentle though, unlike her mother’s which had often turned accusatory: “Why did you encourage Erin to go on a trail ride with those girls? Why didn’t you stay with her? Why didn’t you care enough to know who she was dating?”

  The questions usually resulted in her mother crumbling into apologetic tears, leaving Nikki feeling even more guilty. Most times, she’d fled to her room, crushed and wishing she had been the daughter who’d vanished that day.

  She blinked back her welling emotion and flipped through the collection of papers, searching for the date of Erin’s disappearance.

  Robert had been a beat cop, never a detective, so he didn’t have official access to the investigation. His only role had been canvassing the neighborhood, checking if home owners had spotted any unusual vehicles. But he’d conducted his own research, gathering facts and observations, ripping the paper from his notebooks and keeping them safeguarded. Most of this stuff she knew by heart. After she’d earned her PI license, she and Robert had spent months rehashing Erin’s case. To no avail.

  A familiar address caught her attention: 93 Quarry Road, the farmhouse across from the stable and still owned by Jed Carver. The farmer had often been working on his fencing when the school bus stopped at the bottom of the barn’s long driveway. Erin and the older girls had ignored him, his existence meaningless, but Nikki remembered how Carver had always been eager to talk. Robert had circled Carver’s address and then ticked it off, noting that the man had attended a farm auction that day.

  She leaned back against the cabinet, staring at Carver’s name. She remembered his alibi. The day after completing her PI program, his farm had been the first place she’d visited. He appeared to be a harmless old man, still struggling to keep his rotting fences upright. Like Robert, she’d checked him off her list of suspects. But maybe she should pay him another visit. Carver owned a large and secluded property. Gunner wasn’t a cadaver dog but he was good at finding old dog bones. And he had great instincts.

  Chilled by the idea of a body, she shoved the scrap of paper to the side and returned to flipping through the file. The couple who used to live at 29 Quarry Road had reported seeing a red sports car at four-thirty that day. The car had streaked past, almost clipping their mailbox. The woman was sure the car had come from the stable but the man suspected it was someone dumping off another unwanted pet. Police had never been able to identify the driver, despite numerous appeals to the public.

  Had the car really come from the barn? If so, was it a boyfriend or boarder? Robert had included the same questions in the typed notes he’d handed over to Nikki. But the sports car had remained a dead end.

  After Nikki obtained her license, she’d tracked down every worker, supplier and boarder at the barn, including the three girls who had abandoned Erin by the brook. They were still plagued by varying degrees of guilt. Two of them had bent backwards to help, impressed that Nikki was working in an investigative office. The third girl, Theresa, had tried to hire Nikki to follow her boyfriend on a stag weekend. But none of the three recalled a male friend with a sports car—or a boyfriend of any sort.

  “Don’t you remember?” Theresa had said. “Back then we were all crushing on Justin. He was like a gorgeous god and he wasn’t that much older. And, to be honest, if he had ever paid us any attention, we would have been terrified.”

  Terrified. At the time, Nikki had thought it was an odd word. Theresa always had an affected way of talking that hadn’t diminished with age. Besides, Justin could be terrifying when he was angry, especially if one didn’t know him. But he’d always treated staff and boarders fairly; he’d even left snacks in the barn whenever they worked late.

  She’d been surprised he remembered Erin’s preference for banana muffins. Had never imagined he’d noticed. In fact, Erin had once complained that Justin was way nicer to Nikki than he was to her. Yet Robert seemed to think Erin and Justin had been close.

  She squeezed the bridge of her nose, staring unseeingly at the file. She shouldn’t let the fact that Justin remembered her sister’s favorite muffins bother her but if she didn’t recall that, it left her questioning the clarity of her other memories. Justin had wanted to fire Erin that day—she definitely remembered that.

  Had it been for other reasons though and not because of Erin’s laziness? Would the police have considered Justin a suspect if Nikki hadn’t provided him with an alibi? Surely someone else had seen him in the arena.

  She continued scanning the notes, trying not to be sidetracked. Robert had kept a list of names: nine girls and one eight-year-old boy named Jimmy, all present on the afternoon Erin had vanished. She had a more extensive version of this list. She and Robert had compiled an in-depth history of the families on the chance that an acquaintance of the boarders had driven to the barn and followed the girls into the woods.

  Robert had drawn a heavy line through Jimmy’s name. The eight-year-old had been picked up by his dad at four o’clock, immediately after his riding lesson. Jimmy’s father had lingered to talk to Justin. Apparently he’d wanted his son to ride in the upcoming show but Justin insisted Jimmy needed more instruction.

  Nikki allowed herself a little smile. She remembered Jimmy and his curly hair. At first, he’d been a pain in the ass, following her around, peppering her with questions. He’d only been there because his mother insisted he learn to ride. But Jimmy wasn’t a bad kid and when Justin saw her helping, he’d let her ride Stormy in the arena during Jimmy’s lessons, provided she stayed out of the way. Having another pony around helped keep Jimmy’s mount calm, and the end result was that she received extra instruction.

  At one time, Jimmy’s father had been high on her suspect list. Jimmy had confided that his parents were separated and that his dad had a bunch of girlfriends, all “way younger than Mom.” But after Jimmy’s lesson that day, he and his father had driven directly to Disney World. It was unlikely Erin could have been in the trunk the entire time, and even more unlikely that Jimmy’s father would have known how to properly tie her horse to a tree.

  It was the horseman’s knot that was most perplexing. When Justin arrived in the clearing, Pancho had been tied with a quick release knot, not something the average rapist would know. Of course, Justin knew how to tie a knot. He’d always stressed the importance of keeping a halter beneath the bridle so horses could be safely tied on a trail ride. Or in an emergency.

  Nikki flipped faster through the notes, hating her thread of suspicion and desperate to find someone else who had seen Justin that fateful afternoon.

  Robert had sketched a timeline, marking the approximate time the boarders had left Erin in the clearing to the time they’d returned from the trail ride. There had been five people in the barn between four and six o’clock. One girl had been cleaning tack, another braiding a mane—Nikki remembered comparing their braids—and one was playing a game on her phone. The other two had been setting up jumps in the outside arena. No one reported having a lesson after Jimmy’s. But Robert had drawn a heavy line through Justin’s name. Not a suspect, presence in arena confirmed by Nikki.

  Oh, God. Her chest kicked and for a moment she stopped breathing. Had she been the only one to clear Justin? Surely
one of the other five kids had seen him too.

  She grabbed her phone and called Robert.

  “You’re at the office, aren’t you.” Robert gave a knowing chuckle. “I should have guessed you wouldn’t be able to wait until morning. Did you find the file?”

  “Yes, it was in the bottom drawer. I just have a quick question.” She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual, as if his answer wasn’t important. “Why did the detectives believe Erin left the clearing willingly?”

  “Because she took good care of her horse,” Robert said promptly. “The saddle was loosened and the horse was tied in the shade with some sort of horse knot. What’s the name of that knot?”

  “Quick release,” Nikki said, her throat tightening. She took another quick swallow. “Did the police look closely at everyone at the barn? Everyone who knew how to tie a horse?”

  “Certainly, but there were only five other girls. The owners were away and the boy’s dad had a solid alibi. And of course you saw Justin riding.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. So she had been the only one to provide him with an alibi. And Justin had been alone when he found Erin’s horse. He’d told her to wait at the barn. She remembered how he’d burst from the woods, riding his horse and leading Pancho. Maybe Pancho hadn’t actually been tied in the clearing. Maybe the horse had been tied somewhere else, closer to the secret trail or the staff parking lot, and the entire search had been misdirected.

  “I see,” she said, and her voice sounded far away, as if somebody else were talking, someone calm and controlled whose world wasn’t suddenly spinning. “So either Erin tied Pancho,” she said, “and walked away or else she was taken by someone who knew about horses.”

  “That’s right,” Robert said. “The detectives maintained she walked away, although that’s not what your mother thought.”

  Nikki pressed her shoulders against the cold cabinet, needing its support. She couldn’t remember her mother’s thoughts. They’d been too upset to talk: both mired down with unhealthy amounts of anger and guilt.

  “What did Mom think?” Nikki said.

  “She thought Erin was taken by someone she knew,” Robert said, his voice reluctant. “That she was secretly seeing someone at the barn.”

  Nikki felt breathless, as if she’d run up a huge flight of stairs. But she had to ask. “And who did Mom think was this secret boyfriend? The mystery guy who took her?”

  “Look, your mother was in a bad place. I don’t think her thoughts were always based on fact.”

  Nikki closed the file, letting Robert know by her silence that she needed an answer. “Who did Mom think he was?” she prodded.

  “Justin Decker.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The morning sun was bright and optimistic, bathing the road in a golden glow. Even so, it was unsettling driving with the man who Nikki’s mother suspected had been responsible for Erin’s disappearance.

  Her mother had often been wrong, Nikki reminded herself, cautiously studying Justin, relieved her sunglasses hid her expression. Gunner had no such reservations. When Justin had pulled up this morning, the dog had greeted him with joyful exuberance, clearly still holding him high on his most favorite person list.

  Justin had knelt and scratched Gunner’s belly, but his astute gaze had been locked on her face. “What’s wrong?”

  She should have known he’d pick up on her misgivings and his obvious concern made her mother’s suspicions seem even more off base. “Nothing,” she’d said, giving a dismissive hand wave. “I was just thinking about Erin last night. Didn’t get much sleep.”

  He’d reached out and squeezed her shoulder, his touch inviting. If she’d looked up, she sensed he would have kissed her. And she hadn’t liked that the thought was so appealing, not when Erin deserved to be top of her mind. So she’d brushed past him, distrusting her instincts and annoyed at the way he made her heart pound. Her businesslike manner had set the tone for the day.

  Justin may have been anticipating a more amorous welcome but if so, he hid it well, seemingly unfazed by her reserve. His driving was as smooth as ever, his hands relaxed on the wheel. But on two occasions he reached forward and needlessly adjusted his dashboard computer, a tell that maybe his cool façade had a few cracks. She certainly had a few questions, ones he could quickly clear up.

  She shifted in the seat, studying his face. “Savannah’s case made me wonder if there were any other guys around the barn back when Erin disappeared. You know, older men with cars hoping to take advantage of impressionable teens.”

  “We cleared that list,” he said. “There was a hay delivery at ten fifteen that morning. One male driver. And the farrier made an unscheduled stop to tap a shoe back on Sasha. Theresa’s mother dropped off a pair of riding boots an hour before the school bus arrived and Jimmy’s father picked him up at four o’clock. Other than two boarders riding in the morning, there were no other visitors.”

  His total recall of that day had never disturbed her before. In fact, she’d found it comforting that someone else had been as affected. But now her suspicions churned, and she had to wonder why he remembered the day so well. “Sounds like you just read the file,” she said.

  “It’s on my desk, Nikki. And though I haven’t looked at it in a while, it’s not something I’m likely to forget.”

  So he wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he had Erin’s file. That had to be a good thing. And she’d already established that the three men he mentioned were far from the stable at five o’clock that afternoon. Reliable witnesses had substantiated their whereabouts. That meant Justin had been the only adult male on the grounds. Still, the question remained: Had she been a reliable witness?

  “I don’t remember that afternoon as well as you,” she said, jamming her sunglasses higher on her nose. “Jog my memory. I was cleaning Erin’s stalls. And you were…?”

  “Schooling Diesel.”

  Two words, that’s all he’d give her? She studied his face, concerned about his reticence. He wouldn’t have schooled Diesel for over two hours. In fact, she couldn’t remember him ever riding a horse longer than an hour. And she didn’t have the patience to ask ten questions when one would do.

  “Was I the only one who gave you an alibi that day?” she blurted out.

  He blinked, his shock obvious, along with another emotion she rarely saw from him—hurt. “No,” he said slowly. “Theresa and Kimberly were in and out of the arena several times. And Timmy adjusted some jumps for me.”

  “Timmy left at four o’clock. And the girls went on their trail ride shortly after that. Exactly where were you between four-thirty and five?”

  “I rode and cooled out Diesel. Then I worked outside.”

  His tone was level but he was uncharacteristically evasive. “Did they ever ask you to take a polygraph?”

  “Not then,” he said. “I’ve taken a few since.”

  “I’m sure someone like you could beat it.”

  He looked at her then, his eyes flat as coins. “No doubt.”

  Behind her, Gunner whined and stuck his nose over the middle console, taking turns nudging their shoulders. But Nikki could only grip her hands on her lap as Justin’s words wormed around her brain. He’d just admitted he had no other alibi. And he knew where the secret path was, he’d owned a car with a trunk and he knew how to tie a quick release knot.

  Silence stretched and she pressed back against the seat, chilled to the core.

  “If you think I had a role in Erin’s disappearance,” Justin said, his voice toneless, “you’re rather rash bringing it up now, while we’re alone. I hope you aren’t this reckless when you’re working.”

  “I’m not reckless. I have Gunner.” But her dog was resting his muzzle on Justin’s shoulder, demonstrating that his allegiance was rather suspect. “And I have my gun,” she added.

  “I don’t think so,” Justin said, his voice eerily flat. “Unless it’s in your dog pack which is in the back. But I don’t believe you brought your Gl
ock, judging by the way you tossed your pack around. Which shows you don’t believe I was involved…or else you just don’t think I would ever hurt you.”

  She shifted, her skin clammy as perspiration pricked the back of her neck. He was correct; she hadn’t brought her gun. She only packed when she was working. And she couldn’t imagine that Justin would ever hurt her. Hurt anyone. She blew out an impatient sigh. “Look, can you just tell me who else saw you in the arena? So I can let this go.”

  “You saw me riding between four and five o’clock. That was enough for the police.”

  “But I don’t remember if I actually saw you,” she said. “That part is blank.”

  “Don’t worry. You didn’t say anything that was untrue. Don’t beat yourself up over it, Nik.”

  Her mouth tightened at the brush-off. He seemed to be trying to comfort her, as he’d always done in the past. But maybe he was playing her. Even though she’d known him for a long time, he remained an enigma. And maybe she should be treading more carefully. But he’d always been the one person who understood her guilt, along with her visceral need to find out what had happened to Erin. And she had to follow the evidence.

  “Did you like Erin?” she pushed on, remembering her sister’s tight breeches and how Erin had always brushed out her blond hair before stepping off the bus.

  “I liked her as much as I liked any of the other kids,” Justin said. “I didn’t like that you always had to do her work.”

  Nikki shook her head. That wasn’t what she meant at all. He was deliberately grouping Erin with a bunch of kids. Her mother had suspected Erin was having sex and frustrated that Nikki hadn’t been able to shed any light on possible boyfriends. In a way, Nikki had been her sister’s keeper. But in that department she’d failed miserably. And she wasn’t going to let Justin evade her real question.