“I don’t know how much I can help, but I have some ideas on how he can frame questions and maybe have a better response. Someone knows something. They might not even know what they know.” For nearly half of Regan’s thirteen years in the Marshals Service, she’d tracked fugitives. She had often been called for cases outside her jurisdiction because she had an uncanny way of getting into the heads of those who didn’t want to be found. She also had a knack for getting people to remember details they thought they’d forgotten or never consciously knew. People saw and heard a lot, but remembering those details could be difficult.

The missing days in Candace Swain’s calendar intrigued her. It was virtually impossible to stay off the grid for that long unless you planned to. Money, food, shelter. But there was no clear reason this twenty-one-year-old student had any reason to go on the down-low. Regan was drawn to the challenge of helping Lucas re-create Candace’s whereabouts.

And she’d been in limbo for too long. Regan had to do something to keep her mind off her son and the man who’d killed him.

“You doing it tonight?” asked Jessie.

“Yes.”

“I usually download podcasts for the truck, but I’ll listen live tonight.”

“If you call in and embarrass me, I will get revenge.”

Jessie laughed. “No call-in. Promise.” She glanced at her watch and quickly finished her omelet. “I gotta bolt. Someone up on Schultz Pass Road reported a mountain lion near the trailhead. That’s getting a little close to population centers, so I’m going track it—if the woman is even right about what she saw. People will see a fucking deer and think it’s a mountain lion. Twice that’s happened to me.”

Regan believed it. Both fear and imagination could run wild.

“And then there was the idiot who thought she was helping by taking two cubs into her barn. She called in, was worried they’d been abandoned. Like a mama lion is going to abandon them? She was told twice to leave the cubs alone, that their mom was out hunting, but she didn’t listen. I loved writing her up and fining her the maximum, but those cubs are now in a fucking zoo instead of living their best life.” Jessie rolled her eyes. She put a twenty down on the table and got up, grabbing her radio and clipping it to her belt.

“That’s too much.”

“My treat, you get the tip. Saturday morning, I’m picking you up at six.”

“I’ll pack the picnic.”

“No, I’ll pack the food. You never bring enough to eat.”

When Jessie left, Regan finished her toast and called Lucas Vega to confirm. He sounded pleased that she’d agreed, then she said, “Let’s establish some ground rules beforehand, good?”