Lee opened the first book, read the first entry.

December 23.

When he finished, he picked another entry at random. Opened the second book, did the same.

“So, Britt, did your grandparents come to visit last summer?”

“In August, after we got back from vacation. They stayed with Emily. It used to be their house, but they gave it to her and my mom. Mom didn’t want it, so Emily paid her share. We had them over on the last day for a party on the sailboat. It was really nice. Then…”

She leaned into Emily again, carefully drank some Sprite. “Then after everybody left, my father got mad. He hit Zane in the stomach—he likes to hit in the stomach because it doesn’t show. He said Zane embarrassed him because he’s a bad sailor, and all he did was talk about baseball with Pop and he ate too much of the food like a greedy pig. And I don’t remember all of it.”

“That’s enough.”

Lee closed the book.

“If you had to go in front of a judge, and swear under oath, would you say everything you’ve said to me?”

“Will you get Zane out of prison if I do?”

“I’m going to work on that. Mr. Carter, do you remember Zane having a skiing accident?”

“Yeah, Christmas before last. Face-planted, he told me. Ah, shit. Shit.” Dave pressed his fingers to his eyes. “He didn’t come around until after the first of the year—and he and my Micah are usually joined at the hip. He had a broken nose, but it was healing up. I didn’t question it. But it was right after that he asked me to help him get stronger. Learn to lift. Because of baseball, he said, and I didn’t question that either.”

“I told you.”

“Yeah.” Lee nodded at Britt. “You did. Now Mr. Carter corroborated your statement, your aunt’s. And I’m going to wake somebody up at the High Country Resort and Spa, and nail it down a little more.”

“We stay on the Executive level. They have twenty-four-hour butler service. But I don’t know the number.”

“I’ll get it. I need to talk to the police chief in Lakeview.”

Britt shook her head, cringed back against Emily. “He’s a friend of my dad’s. He’ll—”

“He may be a friend of your dad’s, Britt, but he’s a law officer, and I’ve worked with him a couple times. He’s not going to push this away. You have to keep trusting me, but another thing I have to do is going to be hard for you. I have to contact child services.”

“They can’t take her.” Emily wrapped both arms around Britt. “I’m her aunt.”

“I’m going to push as much as I can push, but if I don’t contact them, it’ll be harder yet. You took the minor child out of the hospital because both you and the minor child feared for her safety and well-being. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“All right. You have to let me do my work, you have to trust I’m going to do that work with the safety and well-being of Britt top of my list.”

“Zane.”

“He’s right up there with you, kid. I’m going to show you a place you can wait, maybe get some rest. Can you wait here, Mr. Carter? I just have a couple more questions.”

“Sure.”

“One more thing. The grandparents, not local?”

“Not anymore.” Emily answered. “My parents moved to Savannah nearly ten years ago. You’re looking for other family, in case they won’t let me keep them. They’d come. They’d come without hesitation.”

“Okay. Let me show you where you can wait.”

When he settled them, he hit the break room, got coffee, brought some to Dave. “Being an EMT, I figure you can handle the coffee.”

“Thanks. Jesus. Britt, she’s tight with my daughter. Seeing what he did to her. What he did to Zane.”

“You responded to the nine-one-one.”

“No, I wasn’t on, but word traveled, and fast. The kids are like family to me.” Sitting, he rubbed hard at the tension in the back of his neck. “I went down to see what I could do, if I could help. They were bringing Zane out. And they had his wrist cuffed to the damn gurney, saying he was under arrest, three counts of assault.”

Dave drank the cop coffee without a wince. “And bigger bullshit I’ve never heard. I’d taken him, my son, their dates to the school dance. And what, ten minutes after I drop him back home, he’s attacking his mom? He wouldn’t hit his mother or Britt. He was happy when I dropped him off, Detective. They’d had a great time.”

“Any drinking?”

“Absolutely not. Kid’s an athlete. He’s serious about baseball, and damn good, too. He wouldn’t risk getting benched for a beer, especially not before States. Jesus, you read the notebook.”

“I’m getting details, Mr. Carter.”

Dave held up a hand, drank more coffee. “Sorry. I’m wound pretty tight right now. Zane was sober, happy. It was their first big date, double date, Zane and Micah, my boy. And his tox came back clean. I was there when Elsa read it—Dr. Marshall, the orthopedic surgeon who treated him. He might still need surgery on the elbow, and he shouldn’t have been taken out of the hospital, much less to Buncombe. Elsa didn’t want to clear him—he should have had overnight observation. But Graham’s not only his father, he’s chief surgical resident. She didn’t have a choice.”

“You stayed with him?”

“Rode in the ambulance with him,” Dave confirmed, “into the hospital, stayed. Neither of his parents came down. Emily came. I called her. They didn’t.”

“Tell me what Zane said to you.”

Fueling himself with coffee, Dave went over everything he could remember, backtracked, added more detail.

“All right. I might need to talk to you again, but you can go home.”

“I’ll wait with Emily and Britt. I just need to let my wife know.”

Lee angled his head. “Your wife? You and Ms. Walker aren’t involved?”

“What?” Dave’s face cleared for the first time with a quick laugh. “No. I’ve been married for seventeen years. Eighteen? One of those. I’ve got two kids. I used to work for the Walkers back when I was a teenager, and summers into my twenties. I’ve known Emily, and Eliza, forever. Emily and I—and Em and my wife—are pretty good friends.”

“Not friends with Eliza Bigelow?”

Humor cooled out of Dave’s eyes. “We don’t run in the same circles as Graham and Eliza. She let that happen to her kids. Maybe she’s a victim, too, but she let that happen to her kids. And her son is hurt, terrified, and in prison. She let that happen, too.”

He got to his feet. “I’ll wait with them.”

Lee gave him directions, then sat back a minute. He’d been on his way home after a sixteen-hour day. Thinking he might have a before-bed beer.

Now it looked like more coffee with another long day to come.

He turned to his computer, did a run on Zane Bigelow, his parents, his aunt, Dave Carter. He got the phone number for the resort, and got to work.

* * *

When Zane looked back on the worst night of his life, small details stuck. The smell of the van—metallic covered with the sweat of fear and desperation. The sound of the wheels on the road sang misery. The impossible loneliness.