Wishing he’d borrowed a laptop for the trip, Danny waited for the browser to open. He called up a search engine. The aged computer chugged along. Web pages loaded at cyber snail’s pace. He started with getting an update and details on the fisherman’s disappearance. Nothing on that front except head scratching from rescue crews. The search was being expanded, but so far, nothing indicated foul play. Lake Walker was deep. Dragging its bottom would be a lengthy process. Danny stared at the grainy pictures of a pudgy, smiling man and his freckle-faced son. Danny wanted to believe the pair was too happy, too innocent to be gone, but he knew otherwise. Death didn’t discriminate. Suppressing his pity for the victims’ family, Danny took a few pertinent notes and moved on.

Danny googled the museum theft and was rewarded with a number of articles. Ignoring the No CELL PHONES sign hanging on the wall, he dialed his brother.

“Yo,” Conor answered.

“Yo, yourself,” Danny retorted.

“Everything OK?”

“Sort of.” Danny sucked up his pride and told Conor about the fire at Reed’s house.

“I’m coming up there,” Conor said in his chronically rude older-brother voice.

“Because I clearly need a babysitter.”

“You almost set yourself on fire.”

“No shit. Thanks for pointing out my latest failure. I feel useless enough,” Danny shot back.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Conor sighed. “But we’re all worried about you. None of us wanted you to go up there by yourself in the first place. Honestly, we figured the chance of you actually discovering something was pretty slim, and therefore, you weren’t in any real danger.”

“Thanks for the confidence.”

“I only meant that there doesn’t seem to be anything to find.”

An ache gathered behind Danny’s temple. “I need to do something, Conor, without one of you to jump in and fix it for me.” He rubbed his eyes. “Jayne is never going to feel safe unless Nathan Hall is found, and the police up here have given up.”

“Maybe you should give up, too. Maybe the police are right, and he’s gone,” Conor reasoned. “The dude did have a fatal brain disease.”

As usual, Conor’s coolheaded calm irritated Danny’s sensitive nerves. He fell right into his assigned sibling role as family hothead. “Do you really want to take that chance with Jayne? This guy could be a threat for another year.”

“We can protect Jayne.” Conor’s voice hardened.

“That’s not the point. Jayne deserves some peace and happiness, don’t you think?” Danny shouted. “She shouldn’t need a bodyguard for a fucking trip to the grocery store.”

“Is everything all right up here?” The librarian stuck her head into the room. Disapproval scrunched her wrinkled face into a giant prune.

Danny turned toward her and covered the phone with a palm. “Yes, I’m sorry.”