She found multiple women with that name online. She worked her way through unpromising results until she came to a mention in the Glasgow Courier, a small newspaper based in Valley County, Montana. “Celeste Johansen was killed in a car wreck eighteen months ago. She went off the road and into the Milk River and either died on impact or was drowned.”

“Sounds familiar,” Peter said.

“Well, according to this article, the Valley County sheriff thinks she fell asleep at the wheel and missed a curve along the Milk River. Nineteen people have died on that same curve over the last twenty-five years. The reporter writes about ongoing efforts to get the county to put in a guardrail, even though there’s no budget for it.”

There was a grainy photo of the dead woman. June usually felt pretty good about her own looks, but the image of Celeste Johansen made her feel like the ugly stepsister. “Wow, she was gorgeous.”

Peter leaned over to get a look at the screen. “She looks just like Helene. Same eyes, same cheekbones, same wild tangle of hair.”

June scrolled down and kept reading. “Celeste Johansen is survived by an aunt, Willa Sundstrom, in Brandon, Minnesota. And also a daughter, Helene Johansen, who had just turned eighteen.”

“Aha!” Peter said. “You’re a genius.”

She gave him a look. “It’s the internet, you idiot.”

“But you did the typing part,” he said. “And spelled their names correctly.”

She poked a finger into his ribs.

“Ow, ow, don’t do that.” He bent himself away from her.

June put her hand on his. “Crap, I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Usually Peter seemed invulnerable. He hadn’t given any sign of the pain since she’d gotten him dressed. It was easy to forget he’d come close to dying just twelve hours before.

60

They zigzagged over to the small town of Beresford, where they hopped on I-29. Twenty-five miles to the north was Sioux Falls, the largest city in South Dakota with over a quarter million people in the metro area.

June stared out at the flat brown landscape. The clouds hung low and threatened rain. “I’m glad to know Helene’s full name,” she said. “It gives her a real identity, you know? Separate from that asshole Roy, I mean.”

“I agree,” Peter said. “But how does it help us?”

“No idea,” June said. “But Campbell has the manpower to look into everyone Roy and Frank have ever known. Also the DCI will have access to their MPD personnel files, which we’ll never get. But Roy will have planned for all of that.”

“Yes,” Peter said. “So if he’s looking for a place to hide out, you think he might use Helene’s contacts.”

“He’s already using her for everything else,” June said.