Colin paused, tried to swallow again, but found only sand in his mouth.

Sike filled the silence. “Okay, goddamn it, I’ll admit it. That’s kinda interesting. Did they change the book?”

“Nope. The publisher said it was too late, and they didn’t want to anyway. They said the scene is crucial to the book. Which, I agree, it is.”

Sike let out a tired groan. “So you think the Yates woman you’re already looking at for the McKay death and her sister had something to do with Caleb Benner?”

“I think it’s worth asking some questions. You have a unit for cold cases?”

“Nope. It’s just us.”

Colin had one more piece of information he saved for last. “Michael Patterson, the lead on the case at the time, had transcripts on each of the kids he talked to, all the kids from the party. They seemed like complete interviews except for Cora’s, which ended abruptly. Almost as if the tape recorder died or something.” Colin knew he had to tread carefully with this next question. “Now, you said Patterson died back in oh-nine, right?”

“Heart attack.”

“And for all you knew, he was a good cop?”

Sike didn’t answer immediately. “Didn’t know him all that well. What’re you getting at?”

“I’m just wondering if Patterson followed all the leads he could have,” Colin said. “Talked to Cora a second time.”

“Are you saying Patterson intentionally backed off of Cora Yates?”

“Her father has a lot of money. Maybe he made it worth Patterson’s while to focus his attention elsewhere.”

Colin wasn’t sure how Sike would react to his hunch, but he was glad he’d finally said it. He wanted a second opinion. Was Colin just a bit too obsessed with the Yates family, or was there something here?

“Look,” Sike said. “I’m not saying this is all completely without merit. Maybe it is. But the case has been buried for some time.”

“Maybe it’s time to dig it up.”

“Easier said than done. Budget’s tight and cold cases don’t get much priority. If Benner’s body had ever been found, then we’d have a murder case, and the argument for continued investigation would be easier. But no body, no murder. As far as the state’s concerned, Caleb Benner is still just a missing person.”

This was about what Colin had expected to hear, but that didn’t make it any less disappointing.

Seeming to read this disappointment, Sike added, “Look, I’ll do a little poking around. Maybe you weren’t sent the entire case file.”

“That’d be helpful. Thank you.”

“You plan on coming back here anytime soon?”

“Not on the department’s budget,” Colin said. “There’s just not enough evidence to bring Rose Yates back to Wisconsin.”

“Ayuh. ’Bout what I figured.”

Helplessness overcame Colin, manifesting itself in a long, slow exhale. “It’s just…”

“Just what, Detective?”

“There’s just something here, I know it. Something about that Yates family. There’s…I don’t know. A rot there.”

This time, Sike laughed, the throaty chuckle of a smoker. “Well, Detective, there’s rottenness everywhere. So put your big-boy pants on and accept people do bad shit all the time, and we only see a fraction of it, much less bring justice to those evildoers. Always been that way, always will be. And on that note, I need to go figure out who nearly decapitated this poodle.”