“I wasn’t thinking about Booth when I told you.”

“Well, maybe you should have—he lied to me about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked him if he knew about Daisy Hollander and he said everybody knew, but then failed to mention she was his girlfriend—or that he spent all that time searching for her.”

“That’s not really a lie.”

“It’s an omission. Same thing.”

Yes, Nic thought. Just like her father with the handwriting analysis. And what else? What other things were people not telling her, here and at home?

Kurt fell silent.

“What, then?” she asked. “What did you think it would lead me to?”

The wall of trees opened to the river, then the turn onto Hastings Pass.

“It’s probably nothing,” he said.

They passed the police station, town hall, the auto body shop. They were at the inn when he finally said the name. A different name. The last name she’d been expecting to hear.

“Chief Watkins.”

“Watkins? What does he have to do with Daisy Hollander?”

“The chief has this thing about kids.”

“What kind of thing?”

Kurt turned right, into the parking lot at the inn. He pulled to a stop.

“He used to come to the school. Talk about opportunities—scholarships and sports recruiting. Ways to get out of here, get money for college.”

“That sounds admirable.”

“I guess.”

“So did he help Daisy Hollander get the scholarship to that summer camp?”

“Had to be. But it’s more than that.”

“Okay.”

Kurt looked around now, at the inn and then the diner. He lowered his voice even though the windows were closed.

“There was talk that the chief was the one who drove Daisy to Boston. He denied it, but some of her friends told Booth, so Booth got in his face about it. Took a swing at him. The chief said it was a lie, but he couldn’t prove where he was that day. That’s all I heard. It could all be teenage bullshit. Gossip . . .”

Nic pictured Booth from earlier that day, giving her the bear spray, showing her where to run. And then his abrupt departure after the question about Daisy Hollander.

She pictured Watkins the day before, stretching his arms out like there wasn’t enough space in the world to accommodate him. His ego eclipsing the universe. It made sense that he would play God helping kids. Changing their lives. Even helping one of them start a new life with a sister who’d made it out. But then,

“Wait a minute,” Nic said, remembering something. “Veronica told us that she moved to New York. That she never went to Boston.”

“I know.”

“So why did people say Chief Watkins drove Daisy to Boston?”

“Maybe that’s what she told people so Booth would have no way to track her down.”

“And Watkins?”