Wy let out her breath in a long sigh. “That was worth moving here all by itself.”

“I know,” Liam said. “Basically all the wildlife I remember from Newenham is the fish.”

“And the raven.”

“Bite your tongue.”

Hand in hand they started walking toward the steep slide of pitted gravel that passed for a road.

There was a soft squawk from the top of a tree and Liam stopped so fast his heel skidded in the dirt. “What was that?”

They looked around but whatever it was made no further noise, and they were left to continue on their way in peace.

Twenty

Monday, September 9

MONDAY MORNING LIAM WALKED INTO the post to find Ms. Petroff at her desk. “Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning. All well here?”

“It’s only one minute after eight, sir.”

“Ms. Petroff, did you just make a joke?”

“I might have, sir, but I take no responsibility for how well your ears work.”

“Less of your sass, Ms. Petroff.”

“Yes, sir.”

He hung his ball cap on the coatrack and sat behind his desk. The folder holding the square and his scribbled notes on each person of interest were exactly where he’d left them in the drawer on Friday. He pulled it out and spread everything across his desk once more.

On Saturday morning he had spoken with Ms. Petroff’s aunt and uncle, and they had confirmed that she was indeed at the picnic on the beach on Monday evening and gone home with them when it ended. Evidently everyone in Blewestown who wasn’t at Gabe McGuire’s party had spent the afternoon and evening on the beach in a last gasp of summer celebration—maybe the beach party was a reward for the morning march—and there were hundreds more witnesses who could attest as to her whereabouts. He added her name to the outer edge of the square, on the other side of her parents.

On Sunday afternoon Wy had flown him back to Kapilat for a second interview with Alexei and Kimberley Petroff. Kimberley had answered the door and very nearly slammed it in his face.

“Let him in, Kimberley,” Alexei said from behind her. He sounded tired.

They settled into the living room again in what was apparently now their assigned seating, although this time Kimberley sat down on the couch next to Alexei. Liam leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, running the band of his ball cap through his fingers. “Mr. Petroff, I understand you lost a brother thirty years ago.”

Alexei’s eyes widened. “Yes.”

“He was ten years old?”

Alexei felt for Kimberley’s hand, his eyes never leaving Liam’s face. “Yes.”

“I’ve read the file and the article in the local newspaper, but could you run that day down for me, please?”

Alexei swallowed. “He and Erik were across the Bay with both our parents on a shopping trip. They told the boys they could take the skiff for a run, and they ended up on Sand Beach. Erik was attacked and left unconscious, and Josh disappeared.” He swallowed. “He was never found.”