Is it all right if I come over later? I need to talk to you.

Amy smiled and sent back: Yes.

Ok. Call me the MINUTE you’re back.

After switching off her phone, Amy saw the brother re-emerge from the barn. He had retrieved a horse and was yanking it by its chin straps, aggressively pulling it toward his truck. Amy watched in disbelief as he dragged the poor thing up the gangway, shoved it into the back of the transport, then strutted back to the barn, presumably to fetch his next victim. The next horse was far less cooperative. Far bigger, far stronger, it came out thrashing its head so hard that he stood no chance of getting near it, never mind getting his hands anywhere near its straps. Swearing audibly, he backed off and spun a finger in the air, a signal for his cohort to go fetch something from their truck—a whip—which he then proceeded to crack right in front of the horse’s face.

Having seen as much as she could stomach, Amy swung open her door, leapt from the car, and stormed toward the barn, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

•••

“Were you expecting company?” Kevin asked, twisting in his seat at the sound of a truck rumbling onto the property.

“Yes, some people are coming to take my horses to their new home. I must see to them. But before I do, I want to show you something.” Roger got up, hobbled into the kitchen, pulled a tube of paper from a drawer, then returned and unrolled it in front of Kevin. It was a map of southwest Oregon. There were circles around Seabrook, the ranch, the forest, the cliffs, as well as two dozen red circles stretching down the coast.

“I’ve been doing calculations based on the tides and the currents since the night my son disappeared. There’s a number of beaches down the coast, but these bays and inlets are remote and inaccessible by foot, which means a body could wash up without anyone knowing.”

Kevin studied the swirling arrows and plotted lines.

“You think your son fell into the water?”

“I don’t know, but it’s the only explanation that makes any sense. I assure you, I’d much rather believe the other version of events. It would be easier to pretend that my son ran away, because then at least he’d still be alive. But I’m his father, and sometimes a father has a gut feeling about these things. Ryan would never abandon me. He’d never abandon this ranch.”

Roger sat back down in his chair and took a sip of water, taking off his glasses to wipe away a tear. When he looked back at Kevin, he had a pleading look in his eyes. “Detective, are you a father?”

“I am.”