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“Dark hair? Light hair? Tall? Short? Fat? Skinny?”

Jack started shaking his head again. “Dark hair for sure. Not tall or short, just average. Kind of average weight. I don’t know. It’s not like I get invited to hang out a lot. I just saw him a few times when I went to get take-out at the Chilly.”

“Why is he called the Perv?”

Another shrug. “I guess ’cause he’s at parties sometimes? Like, parties with kids in my class, but he’s older, like way out of high school, so it’s weird.”

“What kinds of parties?”

“Nothing, like, at somebody’s house, but they go up to the Falls sometimes. Just a bunch of kids, no warning or anything that it’s gonna happen. Then a text gets sent out or a post goes up and people go there with beer and other stuff.”

Emmy had hung out with Jonah and Hannah at the waterfall back when they were in school. She knew what happened there. “Stuff like drugs?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. At least that’s what I hear.”

“Is that why the Perv was at these parties—to deal drugs?”

“I mean, probably? But also to party with them?” Jack’s shoulder jerked up in yet another defensive shrug. “I’ve only heard about it after the fact, like guys saying, ‘did you see how wasted the Perv was last night,’ or like, ‘I gotta hit up the Perv for more weed.’ That kind of thing.”

“Who else would be at these parties?” Emmy asked. “If you had to guess.”

“The football team, definitely. The popular girls—Kaitlynn, Ashleigh, Brandi, Connor.”

Emmy took out her spiral notebook and wrote down the names. “If I showed you some photographs, do you think you could pick out the guy you’re calling the Perv?”

“Like a line-up?”

“Exactly like that.”

“Okay, yeah. I mean—yes ma’am,” he said. “I could do that.”

She heard a light knock on the open door. Her father nodded that it was time to go.

Emmy told Jack, “I’ll be in touch in the morning, okay? Try to get some sleep tonight. Turn off your computer. I need you sharp and focused when you look at the line-up tomorrow, all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you for your help, Jack. I really appreciate it.”

He didn’t answer, but she saw the blush on his cheeks when he reached for his headphones.

Emmy followed her father back to the living room. Carl was leaning on the arm of the couch. He’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt. He told Gerald, “I spoke to Father Nate. He says there are enough searchers. I volunteered to work the food and coffee line.”

“Good,” Gerald said. “We’ll be in touch.”

Emmy opened the door and walked out onto the front porch. The humidity wrapped around her like a wet towel. She could feel sweat breaking out on her skin. By the time she made it halfway down the driveway, the back of her collar was chafing again.

She asked her father, “Did you hear what Jack said about the Perv?”

“Yep,” Gerald said. “Carl watched the fireworks at home with Jack.”

“Jack said the same thing,” Emmy confirmed. “Taybee’s daughter, Kaitlynn, was on Jack’s list of popular girls. I can swing by their house in the morning before I go to the school and see if she can offer any information. I also want to figure out why Dylan is being coy about drugs at the school.”

“Okay.” Gerald stopped at the car, but didn’t get in.

“Highway Patrol found a necklace on one of the backroads. Gold. Cheap. Broken in the middle. Something missing—maybe a locket. Looks like a scuffle took place. Bike tire tracks. Shoe prints. Big ones, like an adult male. Small ones, like a girl’s. Found some blood, too.”

Emmy felt the lump back in her throat. She’d had a respite with Jack, feeling that she was getting information and moving forward. Now reality was hitting her again. The statistical chance of the girls surviving would be past the decimal point soon.

“It’s not a locket.” Emmy reached into her pocket for her phone.

She showed her father the photo she’d taken of the series of photobooth pictures Cheyenne had kept in her lockbox.

“Cheyenne and Madison have matching gold necklaces with their names spelled out in script. They got them for each other at Christmas last year. They never take them off.”

Gerald nodded toward Carl’s house. “Told me Madison went on birth control back in March of last year.”

“Is he allowed to share her personal medical information?”

“Nope.”

Emmy guessed Carl had weighed the consequences. “Hannah didn’t know. She would’ve told me. Did Dr. Carl say anything about Cheyenne?”

“Not his patient.”

“Jack knew that Cheyenne was dealing. He wouldn’t cop to paying her, but it sounds like she was prostituting herself. Fifty bucks for oral sex. That could explain some of the cash.”

“Madison?”

Emmy felt her stomach roil at the thought of Madison taking money for sex. She was just a baby. Both of them were. “I don’t know, Dad. I hope not.”

Gerald took the car keys out of his pocket. “Hannah’s home.”

Emmy knew he was dismissing her. She watched him climb behind the wheel. She waited until the cruiser was down the street before she put her head in her hands. Her skin felt gritty. Exhaustion finally caught up with her. Fear gripped every muscle in her body.

Nothing that Jack had told her pointed to anything but trouble for Cheyenne and Madison.

The drugs and sex were excruciating to learn about, but the girls hadn’t stumbled into those things on their own.

Someone had led them there. Someone had groomed them, tricked them out, put them in jeopardy, all without their parents even noticing.

The chilling fact was that Ruth and Felix were very involved in their daughter’s life.

Hannah and Paul were so wrapped up in Madison’s daily dramas that it was almost claustrophobic.

Both sets of parents had tried their best. Done their best. Loved their girls.

Listened to them. Cherished them. Tried to protect them.

And they had still been stolen away.

Emmy forced her legs to move, her feet to walk down the street. She took a left. Then a right. Then she was standing in front of Hannah’s house.

Red brick ranch. Crisp sage green trim. Carport on the right-hand side.

Emmy had helped pick out the color for the trim.

She had gone with Hannah to buy the Jeep in the driveway.

She had pushed Hannah into accepting Paul’s invitation for a first date.

She had been standing with Hannah in the bathroom when they both looked down at the pee stick that told Hannah she was pregnant with Davey.

Cotton swelled into her throat. Emmy had to open her mouth to breathe.

She touched her fingers lightly to the hood of the Jeep as she passed.

The metal was hot. Hannah had only recently gotten home.

Paul’s Honda was nowhere to be seen. She assumed he was out combing the streets, shouting Madison’s name, desperate to have his child back.

Hannah opened the door before Emmy could knock.

“We haven’t found them,” Emmy said.

She watched the last bit of hope drain from Hannah’s expression.

Then Hannah collapsed into her arms, wailing in grief.

Emmy had to hold her up so that she didn’t fall down.

Tears filled her own eyes, because this was awful, and they both knew that there wasn’t going to be a happy ending.

They clung to each other in a way they hadn’t since they were children.

In the long history of their friendship, there had been heartache and tears, but nothing like this.

Hannah started to tremble from the weight of it.

Her sobs had a keening quality. The sound was like a razor flaying open Emmy’s heart.

She closed her eyes and only saw Madison.

Not on the couch eating a Pop-Tart or rolling her eyes as she moved around the kitchen or even standing under the oak tree.

She was waiting for Emmy at the top of the hill in front of the bleachers.

Lips pursed. Hand clutching her phone. Eyes anxious. Ready to confide. Ready to share.

Not now.

“Emmy,” Hannah moaned. “Emmy, what am I going to do?”

Emmy tried to swallow. The cotton in her throat turned to glass. She remembered her father’s words— the way you help her is to keep your head down and do your job.

“Hannah.” Emmy gripped Hannah’s arms in her hands. The sight of her tear-stained, swollen face was almost too much to bear. “Think really hard. Was anyone hanging around Madison? Making her uncomfortable? Looking at her weird, or—”

“No,” Hannah said. “I would’ve told you. You know I would’ve told you.”

“Okay.” Emmy knew she was right. “What about her laptop?”

“I already tried to get in, but I couldn’t guess the password.”

“Okay,” Emmy repeated, her heart shaking as she tried to think of next steps. “What about money?”

“Her allowance?”

“Did she seem to have more money than you would expect her to?”

“Money?” Hannah’s head started to shake back and forth. “No, she was always begging me for cash. Why are you asking about money?”

“Never mind,” Emmy said. “I need to search Madison’s room.”

“Yes! I was just going through it!” Hannah excitedly grabbed Emmy’s hand, pulling her toward the back of the house.

Emmy nearly stumbled on the rug in the living room.

The house had belonged to Hannah’s mother.

She had grown up here, dragged Emmy back to her room a thousand times before to tell her secrets or commiserate about boys or get away from her mother.

But never anything like this.

“I’ve already gone through everything, but you’re better at this.” Hannah turned the corner into Madison’s room. “You take that side. I’ll go over this side again. Maybe I missed something. She could’ve left a note or a clue. You know how clever she is.”

Emmy didn’t have the heart to tell her that she should’ve stayed out of the room. Hannah hadn’t searched so much as thrown clothes out of drawers and frantically thumbed through paperbacks that she’d dropped onto the floor.

“Hannah.” Emmy tried to be gentle. “Maybe let me do this?”