“You seem to have done your homework,” she says.

The other detective, the one who’s been silent this entire time, at last pops in with, “You listen to a lot of true crime podcasts, do you?”

“How do you know whose … the bones …” My voice scrapes at the air.

“Like I said, we don’t know for sure, but almost eleven years ago, Billy Peak went missing. Some clothes identified as his were found by the river in downtown Dayton a few miles away. The assumption was that he either drowned or was placed in the water, but no body was ever recovered. He fits the profile and lived in this neighborhood, and he was known to be a playmate of your son’s.”

“I remember.” I could never forget.

“Dental records should be able to help us identify him. Give his parents some peace.” She says this last part firmly, as though it’s the most important part, and I suppose she’s right about that.

“If he was drugged and strangled, how would you be able to find that out from a skeleton?”

“Jewelann,” she says gently, “how he died is irrelevant, to be honest. The fact he was disinterred from your yard tells us something bad happened to him.”

“You really believe Ken killed Billy?” I cannot laugh out loud at this. I cannot clap my hands over my mouth to hold back a burst of hysterics. My eyes sting and burn with tears she’d understand better, but my body wants to scream and guffaw and sob all at the same time.

Detective Anderson is too smart to say anything that could come back to haunt her. “If you could provide some evidence of where he’s been traveling over the past six months, longer if you know it, that would be really helpful to this investigation, Jewelann. I really can’t say more than that right now. And if you do know where he is—”

“I don’t. I truly don’t.”

She nods. “Okay. I believe you.”

“But I can give you the credit card statements for the past few months.” I think of the charges for the corn maze, the water park, the candy shop. Learning the truth about my husband is a fever, and I can’t tell if I’m burning up or frozen to the bone.

Detective Anderson looks faintly surprised, as though she was not expecting my cooperation. She looks at Eli, whose head hangs.

“That would be helpful. Yes.”

“And the cell phone bills? Would that be useful? I don’t know anything about towers or pinging—”

“Anything that you’d be willing to let us have would be great. Thank you.” She pauses, looking at Eli. “Are you going to be all right?”

“I’m fine.” He looks up at her. “Like my mom said, it’ll all be okay.”

She nods and gets to her feet. “Listen, Jewelann … if there’s anything you’d like to share with us about … well. Sometimes, in situations like this, it turns out that the family isn’t surprised. Not really.”