Of course he didn’t. McIntyre had told him about the tooth, and the strong possibility Bram was in Swanton.

Tim looked away. “Our conversation yesterday. I didn’t like it.”

“Me either,” I said. “I know you’re worried, but you have to trust me.”

His eyes traveled over the houses on the outskirts of the field while snow fell on the roof of my car. “Any leads on your uncle?”

“A few. He had a friend who’s definitely a person of interest. It sounds like he and Brett were involved in a drug-trafficking operation out of Montreal, and Brett may have been dating two different women—one of them underage, according to my aunt.” I didn’t mention that Felicia was also a suspect. “There’s something else,” I said. “Around the time Brett disappeared, my cousin Crissy did, too. My aunt had a pretty serious anxiety disorder back then, and I gather the two of them got in a fight. For two days nobody could find her, and when they did she was in the woods not far from where Brett’s remains were just found.”

Tim’s eyes widened. “I never realized how boring my family is until now.”

“Consider yourself lucky.”

“What does Crissy say about all that?”

“Not much. She was my first stop, even before I made the connection about her disappearance, but I think she knows more than she’s told me so far. I need to talk to her again. Dig deeper.”

“So what are we waiting for?”

“We?”

Tim averted his eyes. “I’ve tried everything back home. We searched everywhere, exhausted every lead. You know the stats: more than seventy percent of child victims are dead within three hours of being abducted. Trey’s been gone forty-eight.”

Christ, I thought. Two days gone was way too long.

“If you’re right about Bram wanting you to solve this murder,” he said, looking at me again, “I should be here helping. Think of me as your secret weapon.” He waggled his dense eyebrows. “I’ll charm the truth out of her.”

I laughed at that. “You stand a better chance than I do.” I tipped my head toward the road. “Let’s go meet my cousin.”

* * *

The insurance agency where Crissy worked as an office manager was located in a brick house next to Village Green Park. I tried to imagine her walking its winding paths on her lunch break, throwing bits of her sandwich to the swans that paddle in the park’s scenic fenced-in pond, but the image was at odds with Crissy’s X-rated cleavage, and it was too cold for a stroll anyway. We found her at her desk, and Tim managed to sweet-talk her into an empty office for a chat. She was decidedly less excited to find out I’d be coming with them.

“I already told you everything I know,” Crissy said as she began fixing coffee in an ancient-looking machine. “Not my fault you don’t know what to do with it.”

“I appreciate your help,” I said with an affected smile. “I just want Tim to hear it from you directly. I’m not sure I trust myself to get the details right.”