“Um.” This time Ellen scrubbed at her whole face. “Maybe? I think he had a buddy or something come out here before.”

Mia straightened. “Did he mention a name?”

Looking up at them again, Ellen shook her head. “Not that I remember.”

Disappointment flared, but she tamped it down. Even if Mia mentioned Peter’s name now, she couldn’t trust that Ellen wasn’t just picking up cues from them. That was a good way to get false information.

“Why did you go out with him? Robert, that is,” Izzy asked, bolder than Mia probably would have been. Which was why they worked well together when Izzy was free to do her thing. “You don’t seem like you’re swept off your feet or anything.”

Ellen scrunched her nose, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since they’d arrived. “It’s not like there’s a lot of options here.” She shrugged. “And Sammy . . .”

“Sammy what?” Mia prodded.

The question seemed to jar Ellen, and she lost that ease she’d worn, a quick insight into what she’d be like when she didn’t have her back up against a wall.

“No, nothing.” Ellen’s voice was too casual.

“Was he jealous?” Izzy pressed. “Did you want him to be?”

Ellen’s eyes slid to the side again; then she drew in a deep breath. “He’s been, I don’t know, distant lately. More so than usual.”

“When did that start?” Mia asked, thinking back to the phone call Brandon Sonder had overheard. Whom had Sammy called after they’d found the body? What had he said that made it stand out enough in Brandon’s memory for him to tell the cops about it?

“Summer, I’d say, but maybe earlier,” Ellen said. “We’ve been more off than on these days. So.”

Mia didn’t want Sammy to be involved; she wanted him to stay Stoner Sammy B., the boy who listened to The Dark Side of the Moon on vinyl, on repeat, while lying on the shaggy carpet of her bedroom, talking about life and snails and wondering what color mirrors were. Her ulcer throbbed, and she ignored it.

“You said Jimmy and Cash were talking about finding the Bells.”

“I honestly didn’t hear much else than that.” Ellen brought one leg up to her chest so she could wrap her arm around her shin. She rested her chin on her kneecap and stared them down. The tight lines around her eyes and mouth had relaxed almost completely, and her lids drooped as if fear and tension had been the only things keeping her awake.

“Not why Cash wanted to find them?”

Ellen tilted her head, considering. “Something about the father contacting Lacey again? Or bothering her? Or Lacey being upset about something.”