Page 115 of In the Air Tonight

“Of course I do, but there was no way I could sit on this information once it was given to me.”

“Arlo’s sister of all people. He’s losing his shit over that.”

“I’m sorry people are upset, but I’m not the one you should be pissed with.”

“Believe me, I’m pissed at Ryder, too. I can’t believe he actually might’ve done this. Do you think he’ll go down for it?”

“I won’t speculate on that.”

“But the case is solid?”

“Much more so than it was the first time around.”

“Son of a bitch.”

My sister, Austin, texts to express her shock at the news. At least a hundred other people from various times in my life have reached out, too. I replied to my sister, but not to anyone else. I don’t have time to answer their questions.

I understand why Dallas and others are upset and scared about how this might ricochet back on them. However, I had a job to do, and I did it without prejudice. When I first became a police officer, my dad told me to do the right thing in all my dealings on the job, and I’d never have to explain myself to anyone. It was good advice that I’ve endeavored to follow at all times, especially during this most challenging situation of my career.

Twenty minutes before Blaise is due to arrive, I go into the garage in search of my dad’s metal detector. Once upon a time, he’d loved that thing more than his children, or so we’d told him. He’d taken it with him everywhere we went—camping, the beach, hikes in the woods—always looking to strike it rich with some rare find.

That’d never happened, but he had found some unique things along with hundreds of wedding rings and other valuables that he’d done his best to reunite with their owners. Dad fully embraced social media as a result of those efforts. Thanks to him, I have to make daily updates to the departmental Facebook page Dad started. Like I don’t have enough to do.

I locate the metal detector in a corner thick with spider webs that give me the creeps. As I emerge from the barn-shaped garage, I feel like I’m crawling with spiders that I swipe at with wild movements.

That’s where Blaise finds me when she gets out of her car and walks toward me, smiling. “Everything all right?”

“I ran into a bunch of spider webs in the garage. Do you see any on me?”

She takes a careful look. “Nope.”

I shudder and shake off my clothes. “Ugh, I feel like they’re everywhere.”

“What were you doing in there?”

“Looking for the metal detector.”

“How come?”

“Denise told me she lost her car key that night. I want to try to find it, and I need you to show me exactly where to look.”

Her hard swallow is visible.

“I know it’s a lot to ask you to go back there, but if I can find her key, that would further support her testimony.”

Blaise jams her hands into coat pockets and nods, her chin set with the determination she’s demonstrated from the beginning. I admire that tremendously. If she wasn’t now seeing Jack, I would’ve asked her out when this is over. “Let’s go.”

We take a well-worn path from our backyard into the woods that adjoin my parents’ property. My siblings and I beat down that path over years of playing every imaginable game in the woods. This was our playground, and it’d been devastating to hear that someone might’ve been attacked there.

Blaise points to a clearing off the main path, not far from the yard. “There.”

“Show me where you were.”

We cross the clearing to the far side. “Back here. I’d snuck in from over there.” She points to the road that runs behind our place.

I notice her staring at the clearing, probably reliving what happened there.

“That’s all I needed if you want to go, Blaise. Thank you for your help.”

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