“And that whole big police investigation, where they dragged lakes and consulted psychics and questioned sex offenders, all those years, nobody ever connected the two of you to the disappearance?” Drue asked.

“No,” Zee said, shrugging. “Nobody ever even came close. Until you found those newspaper clippings of your mom’s. And then the file.”

“And what would you have done? If the cops had arrested somebody? An innocent man? What would you have done then?”

“It never came to that,” Zee said. “That’s why I waited so long to retire. I figured, if I was still a detective, I could do something, if there was eventually a real suspect. And it’s why I took the file, when I did leave. I probably should have burned it.” He pulled the box closer. “And now I will. Tonight. As soon as I get home. And the whole thing will be done. For good.”

“Do you really believe that?” Drue asked. “Have you seen Vera Rennick’s blog? It’s called Have You Seen Colleen? She’s determined to solve the case. And she’s got a huge following of amateur cold-case detectives.”

“Oh God, her,” Brice muttered. “That damned woman, stirring things up.”

“She can stir things all she wants,” Zee said defiantly. “There’s no trail. No file. Nothing to connect either of us to Colleen Hicks.”

Brice raised his head and stared at his best friend. “Unless they find the body.”

“They won’t,” Zee said. “It’s been forty-two years.”

Brice clutched his forehead with both hands. “Jesus. I thought this nightmare was over. Honest to God. When I got together with Wendy, I figured, finally. This is happy. No more chasing, no more crazy. I built the law firm, tried to do good, to help people. I’m sixty-eight and we’re having a baby. And now this?”

Zee grabbed Brice’s elbow. “Calm down, okay? If it ever came to that, you’ve got a legit alibi. You were nowhere near Sunset Beach that night. You were clear across the bay taking a class in Tampa. Remember?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Brice said. “I know I didn’t kill her, but I look guilty, even to me.”

“You’re not,” Zee said firmly. “Nobody’s guilty. Not you, or me or Sherri. It was an accident. She fell and hit her head, and if it ever came to that, which it won’t, then I’m the one taking the heat, not you.”

Brice’s shirt pocket lit up, then buzzed. He took out his phone and read the incoming text. “I gotta go,” he announced. “Wendy wants me to pick up Chinese on the way home.”

“Go,” Zee said, making a shooing motion. “Go take care of your wife and baby. I’ll hang here with Drue for a while.”

Drue gulped her glass of wine and when the waiter came back, ordered another round for both of them.