“Whatever that ‘something’ is,” Win said, “it’s been missing for ten years. It’s been missing since the boys vanished.”

“So what now?” Myron asked.

“Your call.”

Myron made the final turn onto the Baldwins’ street. “We need to tell Brooke what Fat Gandhi told you. We don’t have the right to keep it from her. She also needs to know about the au pair coming back.”

“That’s a lot,” Win said.

“Too much?”

“No,” Win said. “Brooke can handle more than you can imagine.”

As they pulled into the driveway, the front door opened. Brooke stepped out. She came to the passenger side of the car and gave her cousin Win a long hug. Win wasn’t normally much for long hugs, but he held on. Brooke put her head on Win’s shoulder. Neither cried. Neither collapsed or anything like that. They didn’t move or readjust their arms or pull each other closer. They just stayed there for several beats.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Brooke said.

“Me too.”

When they let each other go, Brooke turned and studied Myron’s face. “This isn’t good news, is it?”

“Nothing definitive,” Win said.

“But not good.”

“No,” Win said, “not good.”

They were about to head inside when another car started down the driveway. Myron recognized the Lexus sedan from Nancy Moore’s garage. They all stood and waited as the car came to a stop. The driver’s door opened. Nancy Moore stepped out. The front passenger door opened.

Patrick Moore stepped out.

Brooke stiffened when she saw their faces. Under her breath, she said, “This isn’t good news either.”

Chapter 31

They were back in the kitchen, the place where it all began.

Patrick, Nancy, and Brooke all sat at the kitchen table. Myron and Win stood off to the side, close enough to hear but not be involved. Patrick sat with his back to the big glass doors, intentionally, Myron supposed. His mother sat next to him and held his hand. Brooke sat across from him and waited.

Patrick looked at his mother. She nodded for him to go ahead. Patrick stared down at the table in front of him. His hair was close cropped, almost shaved. He rubbed his head for a moment before letting his hands drop.

“Rhys is dead, Mrs. Baldwin.”

Myron glanced at Brooke. She had steeled herself for this. There was barely a tell. Myron turned to Win. His expression was blank, the same as his cousin’s.

“He died a long time ago,” Patrick said.

Brooke’s voice did not crack. “How?”

Patrick kept his head lowered. His hands were folded on the table in front of him. His mother kept her hand on his forearm.

“We were taken from this kitchen,” Patrick began. “I don’t remember a lot of things. But I remember that.”

His voice was stilted now, a chilling monotone.

“The men, they stuck us in the back of a van.”

“How many men?” Brooke asked.

“Brooke, please.” It was Nancy Moore. “It’s the first time he’s been able to speak. Just let him get through this, okay?”