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“You’ve been okay?” Jenna says once we’ve settled into my living room, she on the couch, me on the floor. “You still haven’t gotten any threats, right? No one’s approached you or sent you any messages or anything?”

I shake my head. “I would’ve told you if they had. You?”

“No. And same. I hope that means whoever got to Lauren doesn’t know she talked to us again.” Just as I’m feeling grateful she saidwhoeverinstead ofBrad,she adds, “Have you spent any time looking into him? Brad, I mean?”

“I searched around our old car this morning,” I say. “The one Kasey was driving the night she was taken. The one she and Brad…you know. It hasn’t been touched since that day, and there was a ton of stuff in it. I brought it all home to go through.”

“I didn’t realize you guys still had it,” Jenna says. “Jules’s car was so old when it died, we never brought it home from the impound lot. I can help you go through whatever you found.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I’ve been thinking more about the alibi Lauren told us too, that Brad and his family were out of town when Kasey went missing. I didn’t realize it at first, but I know where they were. They have a reunion at their lake house the same time every summer in August. I’ve heard about it for years. They have dozens of people crammed into a handful of houses for almost a week. The alibi holds up. Brad couldn’t have left in the middle of all that without someone noticing.”

“Where’s their lake house?” Jenna says.

“On Nyona Lake. Near Macy, if you know where that is.” I’ve been there many times. It’s where our two families used to vacation together. “I looked up the drive Brad would’ve had to do if he’dtaken Kasey—it’s three hours from Nyona to Grand Rapids. And he would’ve had to do it twice in one night to make it back unnoticed. That’s six hours.”

“That is pretty far,” she says.

“Exactly!”

“I said it’s far, Nic, not impossible.”

But now I’m on a roll. “When did Jules go missing, again?” I know the date is somewhere in the back of my mind, but it isn’t branded into my memory the way August17 is.

“August 4th.”

“Hang on.” I pull out my phone and open my calendar app. At the top, I navigate from the month display to the year, scroll all the way back to 2012 and find August 4. “That was the first weekend of August.”

“Yeah?” Jenna says. “So?”

“My dad goes on a fishing trip with Brad the first weekend of August every year. They have for decades, since before I was born.”

“Where do they go?”

“Same as the reunion. The Andrewses’ place in Nyona Lake. When Jules was taken, Brad would’ve been over an hour away.” I sit up onto my heels. This is the evidence I’ve been looking for.

“Hang on,” Jenna says. “Are you sure they went that weekend? I mean, what’re the odds they go the exact same weekend every year?”

“They have it blocked off, always have. My dad used to joke about how it’s the one nonnegotiable he ever had.” My voice is getting louder, faster. Finally, I feel as if the evidence is lining up with what I’ve known to be true all along.

“Slow down,” she says. “You said this lake house is only an hour outside town? That’s hardly iron-clad proof of anything. Jules was taken in the middle of the night. He could’ve left the lake, driven to Mishawaka, killed her, and come back.”

“That would’ve taken—what—four, five hours? At a minimum. My dad would’ve noticed if Brad had disappeared in the middle of the night for that long.”

“Nic,” Jenna says wearily. “That’s not necessarily true.”

“You’re just looking for ways he could’ve done it because you think he’s guilty.”

“And you’re looking for ways he couldn’t have because you think he’s innocent.” She huffs out a frustrated breath. “We need to talk to him. That’s the only way we’re gonna find anything out.”

“I know,” I say. “I just…I need more time.”

“For what?”

“Let me talk to my dad first. Let me ask him about the family reunion and his fishing trip with Brad that year.” If my dad figures out that I’m digging into Kasey’s disappearance, the conversation isn’t going to go well—if it goes at all. “After that, I promise we can talk to Brad. But this way, when we do, we’ll be ready.”

Jenna studies my face. “Fine,” she says eventually. “But I’m coming with you.”

“Obviously.”