“We haven’t checked the garage for a car with Illinois plates,” said Alex. “It appears that they arrived together, but they stopped a few times in and around Indianapolis. They may have stashed her car.”

“Radio Emily and have her check,” said Rich.

Mike made the call over the radio net.

“So what are we thinking?” asked Berg.

“You tell us,” said Rich. “I’ve been doing too much of the talking.”

Berg stifled a laugh. “Looks like you were right about a third generation. I think they dropped their kids—and spouses—off for a few weeks at Comrade Stalin’s Great Summer Camp Adventure. Maybe Mr. Jeffries and Mrs. Barber only stay a week, and these two go at it like rabbits until they have to pick them up. I don’t know. I can’t imagine them taking the whole summer off. Maybe they’re running an abbreviated version of the camp these days, and the parents take turns each summer, bonding as traitors for a few weeks. All I know is that this takes the conspiracy to the next level. Helen never identified any second-generation couples, and two were sitting right in front of her. That’s not meant as an indictment, Devin. Who the hell would imagine they would risk keeping the chain of treason alive for a third generation, when they had so successfully planted the second generation?”

“At least we know where to start looking,” said Devin. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to figure this out.”

“It’s a massive lake system,” said Alex, zooming out to reveal the full scope of the problem. “Something like eight or nine hundred miles of shoreline, breaking off into hundreds of coves and lake arms. It winds a good twenty miles east of Diamond City and snakes like a river for about thirty miles to Branson, where it connects to Table Rock Lake. If I had to guess, this is why your mother couldn’t find the place. They took off on a boat that could have gone anywhere in this entire lake system.”

“Someone around that marina knows what’s up,” said Devin. “They’ve been shuttling hundreds of people out to the camp every summer for what—four decades?”

Berg nodded. “Something like that. Assuming they attend from preschool age until they’re eighteen, maybe a few refresher summers after high school to make sure the capitalists didn’t corrupt them in college.”

“Good one,” said Marnie.

“I’m glad someone appreciates it,” said Berg. “We don’t know the size of this third generation, but it was small enough to escape your mother’s net. And she was actively looking for the camp.”