She shot a wobbly smile at Gavin. “I used to fold his pants for him. Mom would make us do our own laundry, and Dustin hated folding his jeans—or anything really. So he’d bribe me into doing it. Later, I did it because I loved him.” She put the waist edges together and smoothed the legs, one on top of the other. Then creased them in the middle and let the top half fall over her forearm.

One little pill fell out of a pocket to roll onto the rug. “What’s that?” Caden asked.

She picked it up. “His last dose of meds he didn’t get to take?” It looked familiar. A little yellow triangular pill. “Hey, wait a minute. I saw this at Brianne’s house. She has the same prescription.”

Gavin looked over her shoulder. “That’s the same kind of pill Wilmont stole and took. He thought they were a narcotic, but they’re not.”

“The label says they are. This looks like the same ones that were in the pill bottle on Brianne’s counter. The one I knocked over.”

“Citalopram.”

“Nice,” Caden said, “give an addict something else to get addicted to.”

“Well, I’m not sure Brianne was an addict. And there’s no bottle here to match it up to.”

“Then what’s he doing with it?”

“No idea.”

“These are the only bottles in the house as far as I can tell,” Caden said. “I don’t think he would keep any anywhere else, do you?”

“I don’t know, Cade, I feel like I don’t even know who Dustin was anymore.” She left the bedroom and headed into the den area. Then the kitchen. The guys followed her. “Did you check the fridge?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t full, but it was all food he bought the day before he jumped.” He held up a small piece of paper. “Found the receipt in one of the bags. He was probably going to file it somewhere.”

“Again, not the sign of a person planning not to be around.”

She opened the first drawer. Three forks, a couple of knives, two spoons, and a manual can opener. The next drawer held receipts and other small pieces of paper. “Found his filing system.”

“I meant to come back to that,” Caden said. “I was on a hunt for pill bottles, not papers.”

Sarah laid the papers on the counter while Gavin started going through the other drawers. “Receipts for gas, fast-food runs, and . . . what’s this?”

“What?” The guys stepped over.

“It’s a shipping receipt from the post office near the hospital. It’s got my name on it, but it’s my neighbor’s address. Why would Dustin send something here when he knew I was in Afghanistan?”

“You were approved to come home for Thanksgiving, right?” Caden asked.

“Yes.”