“If you could prove that, Finn would be in prison right now,” Rikke snapped. She turned back and jabbed a finger in Stride’s face. “This is your fault. You won’t quit until my brother is dead.”

“We’re trying to protect him,” Stride replied.

“It’s a little late after everything you’ve done. Plaster his face all over the television. Reporters banging on our door all night. It’s no wonder some animal decided to come after him. You couldn’t arrest him, so you hung him out in the media and let someone else do your dirty work.”

“I’m sorry about the reporters,” Stride said. “They have their sources, and it’s hard to stop them. None of this changes the fact that we need to find Finn before Clark Biggs does.”

“I can’t help you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Maggie asked.

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know. I have no idea where Finn went. I told the officer outside that I didn’t even know he had left the house. I was sleeping.”

“Do you know what time he left?”

Rikke shrugged. “It must have been after midnight. Finn was downstairs when I went to bed.”

“So he’s been gone for less than an hour,” Stride said. “How is Finn’s physical condition?”

“Weak. He shouldn’t be out.”

“Did he say anything to you about leaving the house?”

“No. He’s not strong enough to go anywhere.”

Stride leaned closer to Rikke’s face. “There’s only one thing Finn would be doing after midnight. We both know what that is.”

He saw it in her eyes. She knew.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rikke protested, looking down at the floor.

“I know you want to protect him, but right now, all you’re doing is putting him in harm’s way by lying. Let’s not play games, Rikke. Finn is sick. He went out to stalk a teenage girl, and if we’re right, Clark Biggs followed him. This is a man who believes that Finn is responsible for his daughter’s death. If he finds Finn standing outside another girl’s window, what the hell do you think he’s going to do?”

Rikke swelled her chest with a deep breath. Her jaw hardened like concrete, and Stride saw her hands curl into fists. She marched over to the sofa and sat near the cold fireplace. Water dripped down the chimney onto the grate. She took her cup of coffee in her hand, but she didn’t drink from it.

“We know what happened to your mother,” Maggie told her. “I talked to the police in North Dakota. Finn needs help.”

Rikke rolled her eyes, as if she were a teacher again and one of her students had made a stupid mistake. “Help? You think I haven’t tried to get him help? He’s been in and out of therapy for years.” She added, “I protected him all these years because I felt responsible.”

“Finn’s an adult,” Stride said.

Rikke shook her head. “You didn’t grow up in our house. You don’t know what we went through.”