“Hello,” called Trevor. “Hi. I’m a friend of Claudia’s.”

“Claudia’s here?” asked the officer.

“No,” he said. “She left. She said it was okay for me to stay.”

Why had he lied? He’d made nothing but good decisions after Mike got locked up and nothing but bad since he’d seen that fucking video.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Trevor.”

“You live on the island?” The officer was probably in his twenties. His hair was white-blond and his name tag read “Cross.”

“No,” said Trevor.

“Claudia’s family is looking for her. They called overnight to say she may have come here. But you’re saying she left.”

“I meant, she’s not here. I was supposed to meet her, but she’s not here. I don’t know where she is.”

“How long have you been here?” asked the officer.

“Since yesterday. I figured maybe she lost her phone and I was actually going to leave last night but I missed the ferry, so I can just take off now…”

“Sit down, please,” said the officer. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

Trevor sat. Officer Cross pulled out his phone.

“This is Cross,” he said to whoever was on the other end. “I’m out here at the Whitehouse place. The kid says he’s friends with Claudia.” He listened, looking at Trevor, then looking around the room. “No. He seems a little confused about that.” More listening. “Right. Okay.”

The officer ended the call.

“We’re gonna sit tight.”

Trevor had to pee. Should he say so?

“How do you know Claudia?” asked the officer.

“We’re in the same dorm. Same floor.”

“NYU?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re from the city then?”

“No,” he said. “I’m from Ohio.”

“Long way from home.”

Trevor forced a smile. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?”

“Not if you don’t mind company.”

Officer Cross followed Trevor through the dining room to the half bathroom in the hall. Trevor stood at the door as the officer checked the room, maybe noting that the window was too small for a human being to climb through.

“Make it quick,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

Trevor peed and flushed and replaced the seat, turned on the water, looked in the mirror above the sink. You can do this, he told himself. As he dried his hands he heard the sound of wheels on gravel. Has that been the sound in his dream? He looked out the window and saw a pickup. A white-haired man got out of the passenger seat and walked toward the back of the house.

“Let’s get moving,” said Officer Cross.