“Then search someplace else. This is what I’ve been saying from the beginning. The area needs to be wider. People need to search beyond the forest—out by the cliffs, along the coast.”

“You have reason to believe that’s where your son went?”

“I do. That second horse they found is very temperamental—she spooks easily—and my gut tells me she escaped the ranch and my son gave chase.”

“I don’t recall reading anything about this in the report.”

“Probably because everyone has chosen to believe that both horses spooked and somehow got lost in the forest, because that better suits the preposterous fiction that my son ran away.” Roger pointed out the window, indicating a small clearing in the woods where the boundary of the ranch met the forest. “She would’ve bolted through that gap, and from there it’s a straight shot to the coast. It’s entirely possible.”

Kevin glanced down at the file. “Did you run your theory by the other investigators?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“They didn’t buy it. They said there was nothing to indicate any movement in that direction—no tracks. But what they don’t understand is that it rained solid for twelve hours that night, so any ­footprints—or hoofprints, for that matter—would’ve been washed away.”

“And I presume you passed that information on as well?”

“Of course, but no one seemed convinced. They put a chopper up in the air, did an aerial sweep, said it was the most they could do.”

“I see.” Kevin stared at the table, scratching his chin.

•••

Are you shitting me Ames?! Is this a joke?? Are you okay?

As Amy typed her response, assuring Sam that she was indeed okay, she caught the sound of a croaky engine making its way up the driveway. She finished the message just as a beat-up black truck rounded the corner. Towing a large trailer, the truck rumbled past in a plume of dirty brown smoke and parked outside the entrance to the barn. The words McGuire Bros. Horse Transport were cheaply stamped on the door. Amy’s phone beeped again.

I’m trying to call. It says you’re out of range. Where are you?

Amy tapped back a quick reply, telling Sam all about Seabrook and how Uncle Jack had sent her dad down here to deliver some news about a local case. Then she held up her phone and snapped a picture of the view.

Her attention went back to the truck. Two men, presumably the McGuire brothers themselves, had gotten out and were readying their trailer for transport. Identically dressed in dirt-splattered jeans and tank tops, one tall and lanky, the other heavier set, they were both laughing and joking as they rolled out a gangway and opened the trailer door. Once done, the tall one swaggered off toward the barn.

Another beep.

OMG that’s beautiful. When are you coming home??

Tonight.