Loyalty among sisters. That’s what I was witnessing. They’d die for each other, these women, do anything to defend one another against harm. My mother had clearly tipped Felicia off about my theory, and I knew she’d fight tooth and nail to prove Fee’s innocence. Her devotion to her sister ran that deep.

Suppressing a chill, I held my aunt’s gaze. “If you weren’t involved, then help me. Tell me everything you know—the truth, this time. Were you really not aware Brett had a girlfriend? I talked to Crissy and Russell Loming, and I’m going to talk to Cheryl Copely. You’re not doing yourself any favors by hiding the facts.”

“Crissy,” Felicia said sadly, glancing over at my mom. “I love my daughter, so I don’t want to say this, but her memory . . . it isn’t good. Drugs will do that to a person—don’t bother,” she said when I opened my mouth to, what, defend my cousin against an absolute truth? “I have personal experience with this subject,” she said. “It’s hard for Crissy to remember that time of her life. She’s off the methamphetamine, thank God, and she’s in a social support group now, but the damage is done. You have to take what she says with a whole handful of salt.”

It was a curious statement, coming from a woman who imagined baby stealers skulking in her backyard. It also seemed like a patent attempt to derail my questioning about Cheryl. For the moment, I let her think she’d succeeded. “When did that start?” I asked, thinking of Doug’s comment about the meth. “The hard drug use?”

“Crissy started smoking marijuana when she was around fifteen. It took me longer than it should have to realize it, but she wouldn’t have listened to my warnings anyway. It was her abduction that hooked her on meth. Whoever took her forced her into it, and after that . . .” With a desolate expression, Felicia shook her head.

I did, too, but not for the same reason. Crissy had been young and stupid, yes, but her home life was a nightmare. Though I didn’t condone it, I could understand why she took the path she did. “Her disappearance,” I said, taking note of that word abduction and pressing onward. “What happened there?”

“We don’t know,” Felicia said. “She snuck out, but something went wrong.”

“Did it have anything to do with Brett and Cheryl?”

“What?”

I was grasping at straws, but I needed to pivot the conversation. “I think you knew about Brett’s girlfriend,” I said, “and I’m trying to understand why you didn’t tell me. The only thing I can come up with is that she was more involved in your family’s life than you’re letting on.”

Felicia and my mother quirked their eyebrows at each other. So it wasn’t just my dad who had a secret language with Mom.

“I wasn’t lying about Cheryl,” Felicia said. “But I do remember the last time I saw Brett. It was that Saturday night. I didn’t know he was seeing Cheryl”—another glance at my mother—“but there was someone else.”