Stunned, I fell back on the advice I would have given anybody. “If you run they’ll find you, and then you’ll look doubly guilty. Talk to a lawyer and get advice on what to say, how and when. Do it right now. I can get you a referral.”

“Don’t you think I know what a huge mistake that would be? I listen to your podcast, Ryan. I was right there in that awful prison with that poor woman, the one who was sentenced for a crime she didn’t commit. That’s as close as I want to get to iron bars and a cellmate named Butch.”

I wasn’t sure which was more startling. That my sister was on the run, or that she listened to my podcast.

My heart was pummeling my chest. “If you see a lawyer, he or she won’t turn you in. Attorney-client privilege, remember? They’ll help you figure out the best thing to do. You don’t have to take their advice. But it could save you a lot of time and hassle.”

“Ryan...” She sniffed, and her voice vibrated. “I can’t take a chance I’ll be arrested. I know if I lay low long enough, the murderer will be found and then I can surface. But I don’t know anything that will help, and there’s no guarantee these local bozos know their way around a murder investigation. Cops peg somebody for a murder right off the bat and stop looking. I don’t want to be that somebody.”

She was talking about a problem called confirmation bias, and she was right. Sometimes cops pegged a murderer early in the investigation, and from that point on they only looked for evidence that would prove they were right. “What do you need—”

But she was way ahead of me. “Drive to Seabank. Call Mom as soon as I hang up and give her some reason I didn’t fly home this morning. But not the truth. That would kill Dad. Once you get there, take the girls back to the town house and stay with them until I’m able to come home. Can you do it? You can work in Seabank, can’t you? They’re in school during the day. And if you’re there, you can help Mom if she needs you.”

She made the trip sound like a cozy holiday. I pictured our family toasting marshmallows and singing “Now the Day Is Over.” I could play cheerful auntie and give comfort to our mother, the same woman who wouldn’t grab my hand if she was sinking in quicksand.

The whole idea was crazy. I hardly knew Holly and Noelle. When I was with them, they rarely spoke and always refused my invitations to swim in my parents’ pool or collect shells on the beach.

I was such a bad aunt that I was usually relieved when they refused.

I tried once more to change her mind. “Are the authorities looking for you yet?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then just come home. Please. Right now.” My voice was growing shrill. “Drive to another city if you think you need to, and get a plane home from there. I mean it. It would be a big deal for a sheriff to arrest you in Florida and take you back to Arizona, unless he has an open and shut case. Maybe the navy will give Bryce leave so you can work this out together.”