“Drink like this again,” he told me one time, “and we’ll need to take it up with your folks.”

When we were caught speeding, Sheriff Masters gave us a warning. “Look,” he said, “you’re smarter than this. Cars can careen out of control. You don’t want to be the teen missing from graduation because you’re dead or in jail. No more, okay?”

Mr. and Mrs. Husemann were in the living room when we came in. It was apparent right away that only Lee was missing from the family. Mrs. Husemann bolted for Kip and held him. I remember feeling so sad and awkward, and I lingered behind him while his mom cried harder than any woman I’d ever heard in my life.

“Lee’s missing. She didn’t get to school. She’s vanished.”

“Missing?” Kip asked.

Missing, I thought. Wow.

Mrs. Husemann was a pretty lady with auburn hair that was obviously her pride. She wore it long—longer than most moms did. It was a mess that morning. Her eyes were red. My mom always said that Mrs. Husemann was “put together,” but this morning I could see that she was completely undone.

Mr. Husemann was the strong, silent type, like my own dad. Maybe like all men back then. I could see that while he hadn’t been crying, he was on the edge of falling apart. His mighty, stacked-brick shoulders heaved a little when he spoke to the sheriff.

“She’d never run away, Jack,” he said.

“I just have to consider everything,” Sheriff Masters said. “I know your girl. She’s a good kid.” He acknowledged us with a quick nod. “Kip, do you know of anything that might have happened?”

Kip kept his attention on his folks. “Like what?” he asked. “Dad’s right. Lee’s not a runaway.”

“Right,” he said. “Okay. Has she said anything to you that might help us find her? Someone bothering her? A place she might hide out if she was upset about something? Maybe upset about school or a boy or something?”

Kip shook his head. “Lee’s not like that. She’s good. She’s happy.”

Sheriff Masters looked in my direction. “You have any ideas?”

“No,” I said. “But maybe we should look for her?”

“We got that handled, son,” he said.

“We need to do something,” Kip shot back.

That afternoon the word was out that we were searching for Lee. She’d been missing for a few hours. In a small town like Shelton, I’m pretty sure that everyone knew by noon. No Internet. Few mobile phones. Just the old-fashioned way of getting the word out: Moms called other moms, dads spread the word from barstools or at the mill. Kids congregated in the hallways of the high school. Everyone speculated about what might have happened.