“I didn’t say I was a—”

“Or maybe you’ve raised a few kids of your own?”

“He needs to feel like this is a good place.”

“He’s not with that bitch.” Reed’s lip twitched up in a snarl, and he pounded his pointer finger into the tabletop. “So this is a good place.”

“He had a nightmare.”

That seemed to get Reed’s attention. “About what?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You should have asked.”

“He was scared. I told him a story and stayed with him.”

“Stayed with him?”

“In his room.”

“You stayed in his room? In his bed?”

“No, I slept on the floor.”

“That’s not what we discussed.” Reed’s eyes bored into Spud, causing Spud to take a step back.

“He was scared, Reed.” Spud’s words sounded like an apology. “I want him to be able to sleep.”

Reed smiled at Spud, as if taking pleasure in watching the man’s retreat. Then his eyes softened. “I appreciate that, but… you’re undermining what I’m trying to do. I have to break the spell his mother cast on him. You see that, don’t you? I have to teach Pip to be strong. He needs to face his fears. If we go rushing in to save him… well, it’ll be like his mother’s still here, hovering.”

Spud nodded as Reed spoke, but none of it made sense to him. Reed was talking about a six-year-old boy like he was an experiment. Reed’s visit lasted under an hour, and before he left, he made Spud promise to let Pip cry through his nightmares. Spud gave his word, but went to sleep on the floor next to Pip that night anyway.

The morning of the fourth day found Spud, once again, waking up next to Pip’s bed. He woke to the sound of a truck engine—Reed’s Tahoe. Spud slipped out of Pip’s room into the kitchen just as Reed mounted the porch. Again he carried food in grocery bags. Spud opened the door to let him in.

“It happened,” Reed announced with a sweep of pride. “Just like I said it would.”

“What happened?”

“Sheriff Bolger came out to interview me yesterday. I told you there’d be an investigation. Damn, it’s playing out just like I thought.”

“Does he suspect…”

“Not a thing. I could tell by the questions he asked. He bought our story about the runaway wife hook, line, and sinker. Asked me if I’d heard any rumors about problems between Sandy and David Haas. Wanted to know if Sandy ever talked about moving out of state while we were married. I told him that Sandy always had a thing for beaches. Talked about California and Florida.”

“But if he’s investigating… doesn’t that mean that he suspects something’s wrong?”

“No. It’s David Haas and probably Sandy’s old man. No doubt, they’re pushing it, so Bolger has to at least go through the motions. He even searched my house.”

“He had a search warrant?”

“Hell no. A search warrant needs probable cause. Ain’t no way he’d get a prosecutor or judge to sign off. I invited him to search. I wanted him to see that I have nothing to hide. I want him to believe that I’m desperate to find my son, and the sooner he searches my house, the sooner he crosses me off the list. She’s a missing person—at best—and that’s all.”