Someone kicked the shit out of Ralph, but it wasn’t me.
 
 I’d like to find out who it was, though, and take him out to dinner.
 
 Ralph finally looks at me.Opens his mouth.
 
 “What?”I say.
 
 “You never fucking deserved her.”
 
 Never deserved Angie?He may be right about that.But I sure as hell deserve her more than he does.
 
 “Fuck you,” I reply, and I leave the room.
 
 I’m staring at Lindsay’s yearbook, at the picture of Rebecca Tate.
 
 Is she R.Lyon?Or is this a false lead?
 
 Only one way to find out.
 
 I walk over to my computer, open up Facebook.Search her name.
 
 Lots of people come up.Rebecca Tate is a pretty common name, turns out.
 
 I click on a few profiles, seeing if any of them grew up in Jersey, went to the same high school as Lindsay.
 
 No dice.
 
 I check Instagram.X.Fucking Pinterest.
 
 Rebecca Tate appears to not have any accounts on any social media sites.
 
 Good for her.But not good for me.
 
 I go to Google, type in her name along with the wordsNew Jersey.
 
 Again, several names come up on those people-finding websites.I click and scan the first few pages of results.A lot of Rebecca Tates around Lindsay’s age live in New Jersey, and it’s not like I can get on a plane and go knocking on doors asking if they’re the one I’m looking for.
 
 But then I remember something Lindsay’s dad mentioned at dinner at his house.
 
 I pull out my cell and call him.
 
 “Jason.Everything okay?Lis and I were just about to go to bed.”
 
 I look at my watch.Shit.It’s nearly ten p.m.
 
 “Sorry, I realize it’s late.I just… You mentioned hiring a PI after Lindsay passed away.”
 
 “Yeah, what about him?”
 
 I close my eyes, take a deep breath.“Can you give me his number?”
 
 ChapterSeventeen
 
 Angie
 
 I beat my brother to the restaurant.
 
 “Do you have a reservation?”the hostess asks.