“I need people to call. To trust me, to believe in what I’m doing. Three years is a long time, but I think people would remember the last time they saw a person who later died, right? If Candace went back to the sorority late Sunday night, why didn’t anyone see her? When did she leave? Maybe they thought it was a different day, maybe they got confused, or maybe the police never asked them. Or someone did see her but never told anyone.”

Very valid questions.

“I spent the afternoon at the library reading everything about Candace Swain’s murder. I’d like to know what you have. I might be able to help more than directing callers or offering advice.”

“You’d be willing to do that?” He sounded surprised.

“Yes. I think Chrissy Swain needs to know what happened to her sister. I’ve met with survivors before. The year I worked in the courthouse, I sat in on dozens of trials. And the one thing that survivors have in common—other than loss and grief—is a sense of closure once they watch the justice system work. It works more often than not.”

“That would be—well, awesome! I mean it. If you have the time.”

I have nothing but time. But she didn’t say that.

“If you’re right, and Joseph Abernathy is not her killer, Candace’s killer is still at large.”

“I didn’t actually say that,” he said.

“But you don’t think he did it.”

Lucas shook his head. “I have doubts. Mostly about how he transported her body and why. If he was in a drunken rage and killed her, would he have the wherewithal to steal or borrow a car and dump her body? And while I know his disappearance is suspicious, I find it hard to believe he could disappear for three years. The police have his name and his picture, and he had a routine. How could a drunk elude authorities for so long?”

“What do you think happened to him?”

“I don’t know.”

“You think he’s dead?”

“I guess I do,” he said. “I never thought about it that bluntly, but yeah, it seems the only explanation. A witness saw him jump into a freight car the Sunday Candace’s body was found. I’d like to talk to that witness, but the name wasn’t in the paper, and I couldn’t get the notes from the police report.”

“Then, you need to ask the right questions,” Regan said. “I can help there. You know a lot about this case, and if Candace’s killer is listening, that could put you in danger. I don’t want to light the match tonight and walk away. If we push—and especially if we start gathering better information about Candace’s missing days—I fear you’re putting a target on your back.”

He frowned. “I don’t know about that.”