“I thought Snapchat deleted messages and images after you saw them,” Hazard said.

“You’ve got Snapchat too? Oh, you should follow me. I’m—”

“No, for fuck’s sake. I’m not a twelve-year-old girl. But I understand the basic premise.”

“Well,” Marcus said, “in theory, yeah.”

“But?”

“I, um. Save some pictures. Some of Nico’s, I mean.” Marcus was studying the sofa cushions. “It’s just, like, you know. In case we ever get together I mean.”

“I don’t care,” Hazard said, “just don’t tell me what you really do with them. But I thought Snapchat alerted people if you screenshotted their pictures.”

“You can get around that,” Marcus said. “Like, a screen recording app. Stuff like that.”

“And you’re sure he sent it this morning?”

“Yeah. See? It says, ‘Good morning.’”

“I mean, he couldn’t have faked it? Or someone else couldn’t have faked it?”

“Like, used an old photo? No, that’s his new haircut. And anyway, you can’t do that on Snapchat. It has to be a photo you take right then; that’s the whole point.”

Hazard stared at the supposedly new haircut, which looked the exact same, and tried to think. “So he definitely was home this morning?”

“Definitely.”

“Is there anywhere he could be?”

Marcus shrugged. “I told you: he was supposed to pick me up so we could go help Gray move. He was going to drive us to the U-Haul rental, and then he was going to get the truck and I was going to drive separately to Gray’s in his car. But he never came, and I messaged him, but he didn’t respond. Then I messaged him and said it was an emergency, and he knows that’s code for emergency.”

Hazard blinked at that piece of sophistication.

“Finally,” Marcus said, “I tried calling him. Nothing. I tried to tell myself it was just a fluke, but . . . but that woman just got killed, and . . .” He shrugged, staring at the sofa cushions again. “And it’s Nico.”

Hazard thought of how he’d reacted a year before when Somers had gone missing. He let out a slow breath and nodded.

“Ok,” he said.

“Ok? You know where he is? What do you mean?”

Shaking his head, Hazard said, “No. But I think you’re right. I think Nico’s been taken.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

JULY 3

WEDNESDAY

5:17 PM

SOMERS STARED INTO the open doorway to the Sexten Motors plant, the doorway that had been made to look like it had been boarded up. The air that rushed out of the shadowy interior was cool and smelled like rust and brick and mold.

“Holy shit,” Yarmark said, hand on a can of pepper gel. “That’s creepy.”

Somers nodded. Undoing the snaps on his Glock, he drew out the weapon and said, “Go tell Norman and Gross.”

“Yeah, but—” Yarmark’s eyes were fixed on the darkness. “Let me go with you. Please.”

Nodding again, Somers said, “You spotted it. But tell Norman and Gross first. And grab flashlights.”