“I agree. Did April get any leads?”

“Yes. A few months before April disappeared, someone who claimed to once be a friend of Brandon’s called and told April that he thinks a couple of Brandon’s friends killed Emily. It seems she was abusive. Stephanie had frequent bruises on her body. She told one of her friends that her mother beat her and burned her with cigarettes. It was never reported because Stephanie was afraid to tell anyone. The caller, who was anonymous, it seems, thinks Brandon had Emily killed to save his sister.” She sighed. “It appears that Emily had recently inherited a nice amount of money from her mother after her passing. Emily had a little over a hundred thousand dollars in the bank, as well as a home that was completely paid off. Not long after she disappeared, Brandon turned eighteen, so when she was declared legally dead five years later, he inherited everything. She wasn’t certain how much Brandon got when they sold the house, but she guesses it was at least three-hundred thousand dollars. It would seem like a fortune to those kids.”

Tony shook his head. “First of all, I have to assume the police checked out all these leads. Killing for an inheritance is common. If the police had found anything, they would have arrested Brandon.”

“But what if they didn’t know about the abuse?” River asked. “I think it gives him an even stronger motive. It doesn’t sound like the kids mentioned that. And if Stephanie never saw a doctor or was taken to a hospital . . .”

“Did April contact the police in Michigan?”

River shook her head. “Like I said, she got these tips not long before she disappeared. I don’t think she had time. Besides, the tip came from someone who wanted to stay anonymous. She didn’t have any follow up notes in her notebook, and there wasn’t any update on her podcast.”

“Okay, let’s call the police in . . .”

“Walker. Walker, Michigan.”

“Okay, we’ll contact them and give them April’s information. Then we keep looking.” Tony prayed silently that they’d find something sooner than later. If April was alive, they needed to find her before it was too late. Someone was nervous, and Tony didn’t want April’s captors to decide they couldn’t afford to allow her to stay that way. Going through her notes and reading the pages on her podcasts was rather surreal. If April was already dead, it was as if she was helping them crack cases from the grave.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

River and Tony decided to look over one more case before calling it a day. River brought up the next entry on April’s list, which she called the case of the Railroad Rage.

“I think we can mark this one off,” River said. “I doubt it will ever be solved. A man was found along railroad tracks in Kentucky eighteen years ago. It looked like he’d been savagely beaten. The ME said he was somewhere in his thirties, ragged clothing, probably homeless. A police sketch artist put something together, but the face was in such bad shape he couldn’t be completely sure how accurate the image was. The police looked through all of the missing person cases, but no one fit this guy.”

River pulled out her phone and clicked through the pages she’d taken pictures of. “Here’s a copy of the sketch.” She handed her phone to Tony, who looked at it and gave it back to her.

“Pretty generic,” he said.

“I know. The body was never claimed and was buried by a local church who took pity on the man.”

“Nothing else?”

River shook her head. “No, sadly.”

“I agree that we should cross this one off,” Tony said. “Too long ago, and too cold. Did April get any tips?”

“Not really. A couple of people hoping it might be someone in their family who’d gone missing, but it doesn’t look as if those leads panned out.”

“Why don’t we wrap it up and take another crack at this tomorrow morning?” Tony said.

River yawned. “I agree. I’m tired. Time to go home. Do you want to join us for supper?”

“Are you sure it won’t be any trouble?”

River laughed. “You’ve got my mother and Mrs. Weyland wrapped around your little finger. In fact, when I don’t ask you over, they get a little peeved with me.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “They’re peeved with you, Grandma?”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Where do you get all of these old expressions? Do you spend your down time dressing up like an old woman and chasing old men?”

“No, I spend my time reading books by Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. Great literature. You wouldn’t understand.”

Tony sighed loudly. “Sorry if my books are a little more manly. If anyone used the word peeved in a Creston Mapes or Steven James book, they’d be shot.”

“Very funny. I love their books too. But I’m also able to appreciate the classics.”

“I’ve got to call Watson’s daycare and let them know I’ll be late,” Tony said. “And by the way, they’ll be closed tomorrow. The owner’s father passed away. I’ll need to bring Watson to the office with me.”

“I love it when he comes here,” River said. “I’m so glad the landlord allows pets in the building. The graphic design guys have the cutest dogs.”

“They do, don’t they? Bulldogs. Although they do seem to drool a lot.”

“That’s just part of their charm,” River said, laughing.

Tony had just started to say something when the door to their office opened and a man stepped inside. Late forties, early fifties, sharply dressed. The expression on his face was anything but friendly.

“Can I help you?” Tony asked. He got to his feet in case the guy tried something. They were both trained to size up threatening situations and respond quickly. They didn’t know this man, and he was clearly angry. His expression and the way he held himself were dead giveaways.

“You certainly can,” the man said. “You can quit trying to help Nathan Hearne. My daughter is missing, and I think he may have had something to do with it.”

HE SIGHED AS HE WALKED into another antique store. How many of these places had he been to so far? Unfortunately, old trunks were becoming popular with people who liked to repurpose them. It was irritating.

“Can I help you, sir?”

He turned to find a young woman standing behind him. He felt his heart race. Brown hair. Green eyes. His usual prey. He hadn’t hunted in a long time, and he felt as if his blood was boiling. But he couldn’t do anything to lose River Ryland. She was his most important trophy. The prey he had to kill.

“I . . . I was looking for an old trunk. It doesn’t have to be in perfect shape.”

Her smile widened. “We have one over here,” she said, waving her hand to her right.

He followed behind her. As he watched her walk, his heart beat loudly in his chest. Could she hear it? He had to be careful. If he did or said anything out of the norm, it could cause her to remember him.

“This trunk is from the 1920s,” she said. “It’s solid wood with a liner, a leather handle, and brass accessories. We also have a key for the lock. There’s some water damage, but all in all it’s in very good shape.”

“How much?” he asked.

“We’re asking two hundred.”

He knew it was exactly what he wanted, but if he didn’t haggle a bit, it might seem unusual.

“Would you take one-seventy-five for it?”

“I’m not sure,” the girl said, although he was absolutely certain they had a deal. “Let me ask the owner.”

He tried not to watch her as she walked away, but he couldn’t help it. A couple of minutes later, she came back.