Page 237 of Secrets Along the Shore

“I want to find Evan,” I said. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Becca raised a brow. “You think he was involved?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “But he hadn’t returned my texts. He completely blew me off but fixed my tires. I want to confront him in person.”

Inside the real estate building, a woman at the desk looked up.

“Hi, I’m looking for Evan,” I said.

She frowned. “Haven’t seen him since Friday. Didn’t show up yesterday at all. Didn’t call either. We figured maybe he went out of town?”

My stomach dropped. “Do you know where he lives?”

“We don’t usually give that information out.”

“I think something’s happened to him. Call the sheriff for the wellness check, at least.”

The woman pursed her lips then scribbled the address on a sticky note. “Last house on Maple Ridge Road. Right near the woods.”

Becca and I headed in that direction, driving while deep in our thoughts. As we pulled up to Evan’s modest home, a golden retrieverbarked frantically on the other side of a closed window. Mail poured out of the mailbox.

“Something’s wrong,” I said, jumping out.

The doors were locked, but the back window was cracked open just enough for me to wedge my hand through and push it up. The inside smelled of unwashed dishes and dog excrement.

I found the dog’s food and water bowls empty and filled them quickly. While the dog ate, I searched the house, paying close attention to some pictures he had hanging on the living room wall.

I quickly saw a picture of Becca in a group shot at the lake. I took it down and brought it to her.

Tapping her on the shoulder, she swung around, stopping at the photo.

“What about it?” she asked.

“You were friends?”

“Sure. We all grew up together.”

I looked at the picture. It was taken at Becca’s house. I scanned the faces, spotting Sheriff McNealy in the crowd. Becca looked to be about fifteen, just as I remembered her that last summer at the lake. “How old were you when this was taken?”

She looked at it again, squinting. “Not sure. Maybe fourteen or fifteen. Why?”

“I was at the lake during those summers. I don’t remember being invited, I guess.”

She laughed a bit. “I’m sure you were, but you only ever wanted to play with my little sister.”

I flinched at her callous comment. “I wanted to be accepted by the people in this town. I thought you and Livvie had. But maybe I was wrong about you.”

Becca rolled her eyes, looking about fourteen or fifteen years-old right now. “Can we just go home? Evan obviously is away for the weekend.”

The dog finished his meal and nuzzled my leg. “Come on,” I said. “You’re coming with us, pup.” To Becca, I said, “And he’s staying with me.”

We headed back through town, passing the sheriff’s station. Butwhen we went by the building, the lights were off, and no cars were parked out front.

The sheriff was gone.

“What if he didn’t make the call?” I thought out loud, signing out of habit. Would Sheriff McNealy contact Nathan to warn him? Did they know each other? I had given him all the evidence I had. Now, I didn’t know who to trust.

“Who? What call?” Becca asked from the passenger seat. The dog sat in the back seat between us, moving his head back and forth. Becca held Evan’s framed photograph.