His father’s words dissolved the mental picture of the Pearce kids and the memory of the teens hanging out on the bleachers came back into focus. Drew—the boy who had just committed suicide; Amanda, the girlfriend. Ian…James’s mind snapped back to Drew and the cigarette smoke that billowed out of that teenager’s mouth.

But, the loss seemed to break him more than I think it should…Ian had nightmares every night…for months he recoiled any time someone lit a cigarette…I know they say Travis started the fire with a cigarette, but it’s not as if Ian was there to see it…

Cold thrust an icy dagger into James’s heart. Suddenly, the picture formed, as if James was standing right in front of the intact house. Everything coalesced into a complete story, one that clicked into place so quickly that James had to mentally back up and go over it again.

Ian was there to see it.

The flames in his mind’s eye cooled, and James focused once again on the shattered remains of so many lives lost. But at least he believed he understood now—understood what happened, understood why Travis confessed, understood what he had to do next.

Thank You, Lord!

He hurried to his truck and headed into town. He found the teens huddled around a fire chattering to each other and totally oblivious to his presence—or perhaps just ignoring him. In the dark of night, it was difficult to believe they couldn’t see his headlights shining on them.

He hunkered into his jacket. No matter, they could pretend he wasn’t there, but he refused to give up. The power of his collar had given him the ability to look confident even when his heart quailed. As he approached, a burly kid turned to him.

“You want something?”

James ignored him. “Amanda, can I talk to you?” He waited, still and silent, projecting a commanding presence, a psychological stance he rarely used. But the truth needed to be told. And as sure as the sun rose in the east, James knew Amanda had the truth buried inside, the truth she desperately needed to confess.

She turned haunted eyes on him. Eyes that had witnessed something horrific, something almost worse than losing her boyfriend to suicide.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she turned away.

She couldn’t even face him. Either that, or she was gathering the strength and courage to do what she had to do. Somehow, she seemed to know what he was about to ask.

“Amanda, I know what happened that terrible night, and you have nothing to be afraid of if I’m right. You were there that night, weren’t you? You, Drew,”—he scanned them all—“Maybe all of you were there. But you were there, weren’t you?”

She just stared at him, fear glazing over her eyes as she hugged herself.