Page 22 of The Guilty One

She nods, but slowly, hesitantly. “They were all boys in school together. But Tate hasn’t spoken to or about them in years, as far as I know.” She looks to Lane, who nods in agreement.

“They were almost always included on the email threads between Dakota and Tate, but no one had responded as far as I could see. When I looked them up, I learned that Bradley, um, he also passed away recently. I’m so sorry, Daphne.”

Tears fill her eyes and overflow down her cheeks as she stares at me, her chin trembling. “Both of them? Bradley and Dakota are gone? You’re sure? And now Tate’s missing? It doesn’t make sense.” She wraps her arms around herself, leaning into Lane, who holds her against his side, looking away from me.

The weight of their grief is palpable, swelling to fill the room.

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t find a lot of information, but it seems like a strange coincidence. The other man on the email list was named Aaron Bond?—”

She winces, bracing herself. “Oh, tell me Aaron isn’t?—”

“He’s still alive,” I assure her, easing her panic only slightly. “But he wouldn’t talk to me.”

“You reached out to him?” Lane asks, meeting my eyes for the first time since I delivered the news. His arm is still rubbing up and down over Daphne’s back.

“I called his office phone. I thought he might be able to help, if he knew Tate, but he hung up on me.”

“Well, that isn’t like him,” Daphne says, staring off into space. “Maybe we could reach out to him since he knows us.” She looks at Lane, who frowns.

“Knew us practically a decade ago. Besides, I don’t see what good it’ll do,” Lane says, twisting his lips in thought, arms crossed.

“It’ll be the whole group…gone,” Daphne says, her tone somber. “If anything happens to Aaron. If someone is targeting the boys for some reason.”

“Targeting them? Why would you say that?” Lane stares at her as if she’s lost her mind, but I’m not sure she’s wrong.

She presses her lips together. “What else could it mean? The whole group gone so close together?”

“You keep saying that. What do you mean, the whole group?” I ask.

She pauses, staring at me as if she’s trying to decide what to say. “All of Tate’s friends from college. Dakota, Bradley, now Tate. That doesn’t seem like a coincidence.”

“That was all of his friends?”

She nods.

“Now don’t be getting any kind of conspiracy theory in your head, Daph,” Lane says, his voice skeptical. My father-in-law deals in the world of numbers and facts, so it doesn’t surprise me in the least that he’s dismissing what Daphne is saying, but she’s thinking along the same lines I have been. It can’t be just a coincidence, even more so with what I’ve just learned. “These boys haven’t been in contact in years. What reason would anyone have to target them? You said it yourself…they were good boys.”

“Would you mind calling him?” I ask. “I think you’re right. If he knew you, he might be more willing to talk to you than he was me.”

Daphne’s eyes widen as she looks at Lane, then back at me. “I don’t see how it could hurt, but I don’t have his number anymore. Do you want me to try the office phone you called earlier?”

I nod, retrieving my phone from my pocket and rattling the number off to her. Pressing send, she places the phone to her ear and waits.

After a few moments, her face lights up. “Yes, hello. I’m hoping to speak with Aaron Bond, please.”

She pauses.

“You can tell him it’s Daphne Thompson.”

My throat goes dry, and I suddenly wish she hadn’t given him her real name. There’s another long pause and then her face falls. “Oh. No, of course. Yes, just have him call me back. Please tell him it’s urgent.” She gives her number to the receptionist before ending the call, looking as defeated as I feel. “She said he was on a call.”

I don’t need to say it. Somehow, I know we all feel it. Aaron Bond isn’t going to take our calls. He’s ignoring us, and I need to know why.

Daphne looks up at Lane, her chin quivering. His eyes dance between hers, their broken expressions cracking the last of my resolve. Before anyone can say anything, she begins to weep.

“I just want him home,” she sobs. “I just want my son home.”

He pulls her into his chest as tears tickle the back of my throat, and I step away. Lane was probably right with what he said earlier. Going down rabbit holes isn’t helping anyone right now. We have to deal with what we know for certain. And what I know for certain is that Aaron is potentially one of the only members of the friend group left, and he’s also the one avoiding us right now.

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