“Upset enough that he’d feel he needed to get away?” Standish asked.

“I don’t know,” Annie snapped, growing exasperated. “He’s not here. Can’t we just focus on finding him? Does it matter why he left? Does it matter whether he was sleepwalking or freaked out by what happened to Fin? Shouldn’t we just find him?”

“You seem very upset,” Standish said, keeping her voice even.

“For fuck’s sake, you think?” Annie shot back.

“Maybe we should go in and sit down, take a minute.” She put a hand on Annie’s shoulder, getting ready to guide her into the house.

“We’re wasting time, standing here,” Annie said, pushing Standish’s hand away and heading for her car.

“No, Ms. Blunt, I’d like you to stay here. I have more questions.”

“About what?”

“Well, frankly, I’d like to ask you a few questions about your state of mind.”

“I’m sorry, what? I’m fucking scared to death, that’s my fucking state of mind.”

“And I totally understand that, I do. But right now we’ve got lots of people looking, and if we could talk through a few things, that would help. Please. Could we take a seat?”

Standish tipped her head toward the porch. With some reluctance, Annie agreed to walk away from her car and sit down on one of the porch chairs. Standish took the next closest one to her.

“I understand this has been a very difficult year for you,” the officer said.

“Christ,” Annie said. “First Daniel, and now you. Everyone’s googling me. I’m starting to feel like I’m trending.”

“You lost your husband, and before that, all that controversy about the boy who thought he could fly.”

Annie bit her lip and look away. “I don’t need reminding.”

“And now your son’s missing not even a full twenty-four hours after this man, Mr. Sproule, died in your house.”

“Make your point.”

Standish hesitated before making it. “There has been an inordinate amount of trouble for people in your orbit.”

Annie slowly turned her head and narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that I’m somehow responsible?”

“It’s an observation. Not necessarily responsible, but somehow at the center of things.”

“I didn’t know that boy. Evan Corcoran. I’d never met him. But, believe me, even though that book sold hundreds of thousands of copies, and there were no other similar incidents, his death weighs on me every day, and no matter what anyone says, I feel responsible. So, yeah, that one’s on me, I suppose. He was in my orbit, as you say. And John? That was a hit-and-run. He walked out into the street looking at his phone and some son of a bitch ran him down. So, another one in my fucking solar system.”