Max didn’t say it out loud, but he finished the thought in his head. If Sandy hadn’t run off, then foul play was involved.

In the kitchen a plate crashed to the floor, splintering into shards. Max turned to see Meredith bent over the sink, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the countertop. Her knees seemed to weaken and she slid partway to the floor before catching herself. She looked at Max and then at Lyle with a venomous glare, her breath coming and going in jagged twitches. Then she walked out the front door without saying a word.

Lyle closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “We probably shouldn’t have had this conversation here.”

“Bolger’s theory has the strongest legs.” Max tried to sound convincing, but his words betrayed his true feelings. “Let’s focus our energy on finding Sandy.”

“Where do we start?”

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but we should start by figuring out if there was another man in her life. You could put together a list of Sandy’s friends—anyone she might have shared that kind of a secret with. We won’t make any assumptions one way or the other. Agreed?”

Lyle gave a nod.

“Also, a trip up to the taconite plant would be a good idea. Ask around about David Haas, see if anyone saw him that morning. I want to lock his alibi down.”

“I can do that.”

“At some point we’ll need to have a chat with Mr. Haas. See what he has to say about his relationship with Sandy.”

“And what will you be doing?”

“They tracked Sandy’s cell phone to a convenience store on the north end of Minneapolis. I’m gonna drive down there… shake a tree or two to see if anything falls out.”

“This feels good,” Lyle said, looking energized for the first time. “At least I’m doing something instead of sitting on my thumbs. The last few days have been pretty damned dark.”

They parted with a handshake, Max promising to touch base once he got back from Minneapolis. Leaving the mobile home, he was about to get into his Jeep Cherokee when a woman’s voice called out to him.

“Mr. Rupert?”

It was Meredith, standing behind a small shed at the edge of the lot. She held the collar of her sweater up tight around her throat, as if trying to keep warm as she’d waited for him.

“Mrs. Voight.”

“Do you have children?”

Immediately, Max thought of the bracelet and his dream. Even though he hadn’t known about Jenni’s pregnancy, he wanted to believe that he had been a father. But he had no desire to explain that here, so he answered, “No.”

“My daughter’s name is Sandy, and my grandson’s name is Pip. They’re flesh and blood and they’re alive.”

“I never said—”

“Did Lyle tell you that Sandy had cancer when she was a child? Wilms tumor. She spent seven hours in surgery the day before her first birthday. If you want to know what kind of bargains a person is willing to make with God, just go through that. And Pip is scared of spiders and bridges. He holds his breath every time we drive over one. He calls me Nana, and Lyle is his Poppy. They’re not just names on a piece of paper; they’re my family. They’re what keep me alive.”