“Less than a day, once they get started.” My mother shrugs. “Robert will drive it down to the nearest state lab tomorrow, but I don’t know how soon they’ll get to it. It could be as little as a few days, as much as several weeks, if they’re backed up. Okay.” She turns back to Jake and pulls her phone from her pocket. “I only have one more question for you, since you’ve confirmed that the bag is yours. Do you recognize this shirt?”

I can’t see the picture she’s showing him, but that turns out not to matter, because—

“If it helps …” Officer Green pulls a notebook from his pocket and reads from it. “It’s a navy Tennessee Titans licensed T-shirt, made from Dri-FIT cotton, with the Titans logo screen printed in a three-dimensional font. Size large. It’s available for purchase in the NFL store online, and in several brick-and-mortar gift shops across the state.”

“Yeah, I know the shirt.” Jake shrugs. “A bunch of us bought one like that at the Titans game on the senior class trip.”

“How many is ‘a bunch’?” my mother asks.

Another shrug from Jake. “Half the guys in the senior class. It was the most affordable souvenir, other than key chains and postcards. And shot glasses. Which the teachers wouldn’t let us buy.”

“When was that trip?” Green asks.

My mother answers, still watching Jake. “October. So you own a shirt just like this?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Nick asks. “What does the shirt have to do with anything?”

“Jake, is it possible that this is your shirt?” My mother taps the image on her phone with one blunt fingernail.

“No, mine’s in the laundry. Hang on.”

Jake pushes his chair back and crosses the kitchen into the tiny utility room, where I can hear him rummage around for a few seconds.

“Here.” He returns to the table and hands my mother a familiar navy blue shirt. “This one’s mine.”

My mother lays it flat on the table and stares at it for a few seconds, comparing it to the image on her phone. “Okay, thank you,” she says at last.

“What does the shirt have to do with anything?” Nick repeats.

“It’s just another bit of evidence we’re trying to identify.” She stands and puts one hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Thank you very much for your help.”

She and Officer Green head toward the hallway, and I race silently back into the shadows, planning to slip into Jake’s room. But then Emily’s door opens, casting a rectangle of light on the hallway carpet, and I duck through the open bathroom door instead.

“What’s going on?” Emily pulls her headphones off, obviously surprised to see police in her home.

“Nothing, honey,” Nick Mercer says from well outside my field of vision. “Officer Bergen and Officer Green were just leaving.”

Detective Bergen, I mentally correct him, because I know my mother won’t.