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She reached into her purse for her packet of tissues. She knew she was tearing up over Doug Daniels because she couldn’t bring herself to cry for her lost mother and father.

“Martha?” Virgil Ingram was standing outside the station.

He’d been looking at his phone, but he quickly tucked it into his back pocket.

Virgil was at least fifteen years older than Jude.

Her memories always had him in uniform standing beside Gerald.

Now, he was in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

His hair had gone gray. She assumed from the muscles rippling under his clothes that he was still spending every free moment riding and showing horses.

He said, “I wondered if you’d show up.”

Jude took a deep, bracing breath. “I gather the report of my death was an exaggeration.”

“Gerald told me last year. Said you were some kind of FBI bigwig.”

She didn’t let her mind dwell on the fact that her father had relayed the information to Virgil. “I’m here to help with the Paisley Walker case.”

“They could use it. I’m technically retired. Doing PI work now. Emmy asked me to come in and help. Poor little girl vanished off the backroads. Just like the last time.” He started to explain, “There was a case—”

“I listened to the podcast. Misguided Ange l ?”

Virgil grunted. “Jack Whitlock is an asshole, and that was some class-A bullshit putting all the focus on Emmy. She wasn’t in charge of the case. Gerald was. And for the record, nobody was misguided. They got the right guy. You remember Adam Huntsinger? He was always rotten to the core.”

Jude knew people could say the same thing about her. She looked up at the sheriff’s station. The red brick had been painted dark gray. There was a lighted sign instead of the brass letters. “Who’s in charge now?”

“Emmy, I guess. Gerald made her chief deputy after I retired.”

“She up for it?”

“For doing the job? Definitely. She’s basically been running the shop for the past two years. Gerald was pushing her to take over, but I dunno. I don’t think she wants it. And I’m not sure the squad would accept her anyway.”

“Even though she’s been doing the job already?”

“Big difference without Gerald backstopping her.”

“A man has to prove himself once. A woman has to prove herself every day.”

He laughed. “You some kind of feminist now?”

“I’m a realist.” She nodded toward the station. “What am I going to find in there?”

“Let’s see.” He held open the door. “After you.”

Jude had spent her career walking blind into squad rooms. The smell was always the same—sweat and desperation.

Usually, there was an air of hostility or resentment.

For a lot of cops, calling in the FBI was a necessary evil at best and an admission of failure at worst. The fact remained that no one was ever happy to see her.

She couldn’t blame them. When the FBI took over a case, the FBI got the credit.

Unless the case went sideways, then the blame lay squarely on the local force.

“Holy shit,” a man said. “Dr. Archer?”

She watched him practically leap across the desks to reach her. Short hair combed to the side. Crisp white shirt. Light blue tie. American flag pin. Jude recognized the clean-cut, button-down look of a career FBI agent. His hand was out. Jude could feel the sweat on his palm when she shook it.

“Dr. Archer, what an honor to meet you in person. I’m SA Seth Alexander.

” He sounded like a breathless fanboy. “My boss told me he was sending the big guns, but I didn’t know it’d be a howitzer.

Thank you so much for coming, ma’am. I saw you speak at Quantico a few years ago. I’m honored to be on your team.”

“Thank you, but I’m officially retired. I’m here in the capacity of a consultant.” Jude looked for Emmy, letting her gaze skip over Gerald’s empty office. “Where’s the acting sheriff?”

“Stepped out for a minute. You want me to locate her?”

Jude didn’t think she could handle Emmy right now. It was far easier to fall back into a familiar pattern. “Catch me up to speed first. What do we know?”

“Paisley Walker, fourteen-year-old female.” Seth led her to the back of the squad.

Jude looked down at the map of North Falls that was laid out on a desk. Circles tracked the abductor’s possible trajectory.

“Here.” Seth pointed to a red X on Coleman Avenue.

“Mother says Paisley left by bike to go to school a little before seven. Around seven thirty, a witness called 911. She was here, on one of the dirt farming tracks that locals call the backroads. Caller said there was an abandoned kid’s bike.

No sign of the rider. Back tire bent, chain off, blood at the scene.

Local responder called the usual places, searched the family home. All came up negative.”

Jude looked at the map, though the route was already mapped out in her head. She used to ride her bike on the backroads with Henry and Tommy to fish at Millie’s pond.

She asked, “And then?”

“They talked to the parents, looked into relatives, interviewed the school staff, spoke with neighbors, canvassed the area from the house to where the bike was found. Checked dumpsters, trash cans, sewers, alleys. We’ve got the girl’s father, Elijah Walker, back in interrogation.

The mother’s name is Carol. She’s at their home address.

Had to be medicated, but my agent tells me she’s ready to talk. ”

Jude asked, “Anybody you like for it?”

“No, ma’am,” Seth answered. “Got a wily uncle on his way over from Alabama and a Hispanic male in a black truck who did some yard work for the family four months ago. Father says he might’ve seen the same black truck the morning of the disappearance.

We’re tracking the man down through a payment app. ”

“You want to be careful with that.” Jude looked back at the squad room. She spotted a young deputy with his head bent over a computer. Handsome. Curly brown hair. Distinctive features. She told Seth, “Small town. People get stirred up easily.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Seth said. “You know about the officer who was murdered?”

“I do.” Jude looked away from the deputy. “Have you explored possible connections between Paisley’s disappearance and the Adam Huntsinger case?”

“Huntsinger was released from custody three days ago pending a rape charge. Should we be looking at him? Is this a serial?”

“Undetermined.” Jude didn’t like the excitement in his voice. He was thinking too much of the chase and not enough about the victims. “What else do you have?”

“We’ve got Elijah Walker’s phone.” He waved over another clean-cut, buttoned-down agent. “SA Damien Reynolds. He’s our IT guy.”

“Dr. Archer, it’s an honor,” Damien said. “One of the locals managed to get access to Elijah Walker’s phone. Texts are clean. Browser history is mostly fantasy football and porn. I need to run the software to break his WhatsApp, but his photos tell a story.”

Jude found her reading glasses in her purse.

Took them out of the case. She scrolled through the photos.

There had been many times during her career when Jude was acutely aware that she was the only woman in a room full of men.

Now as she looked at the lewd photographs of men’s and women’s genitalia stored on Elijah Walker’s phone was definitely one of them.

Damien said, “The metadata has been scrubbed for location, but the date on all of the pictures is from last year.”

She took off her glasses. “What sort of porn was in his browser history?”

“Light bondage. Adult women. Nothing too kinky. Nothing underage or barely legal.”

“What’s the main password for the phone?”

Damien read the number from a scrap of paper. “Eight-seven-two-thirty-one-six.”

Jude told Seth, “Tell me about the parents.”

“Elijah Arnold Walker, thirty-seven, white male. Insurance broker. Church deacon. Wife is Carol Diane Walker, aged thirty-one, white female. Homemaker. Volunteers at the local charity shop three days a week. No previous marriages for either. Paisley is their only child.”

“So she was seventeen and he was twenty-three when they had Paisley,” Jude said. “Alibis?”

Seth took a moment to absorb the math. “Mother was at home. Neighbors saw her checking the mailbox after the daughter left. Father was at work all morning. Secretary was with him at his office when he got the call.”

“Take me to him.”

“Yes, ma’am. This way.”

Jude didn’t need help finding the interrogation rooms, but she was glad to let Seth take the lead.

She let herself look at Gerald’s empty office.

The lights were off. His desk had been turned away from the window.

Another desk was pushed up against it. Jude saw a laptop, a faded photo of a boy with a mop of curly brown hair that matched the young deputy who was still bent over his computer.

The sense of unease returned to her body. Tommy had said that Gerald had changed because of Emmy. That Myrna had gotten better. That Emmy had brought a ray of sunshine into their lives. What her brother hadn’t said was the obvious: the light had only broken through after Jude’s darkness was gone.

Seth stopped outside the closed door to the first interrogation room. “You need me in there, ma’am?”

“I assume there are cameras. Watch from afar. I’ll signal if I want you.” Jude stopped him before he left. “Who’s the local who got Walker to unlock his phone?”

“Emmy Clifton. I let her take first swipe at the interview.”

Jude tried not to bristle. Getting the phone voluntarily unlocked was not inconsequential. “Did she share her impressions of Walker?”

“She said he came off as controlling and—her words, ma’am—a tight-ass. Thought he was hiding something. She flagged that he didn’t like how his daughter dressed.” Seth shrugged. “Pretty normal for a father to be worried about that. Could be Emmy was bringing in her own issues.”

“Do you know her well?” Jude saw the question in his eyes. “You keep calling her Emmy. Isn’t she the acting sheriff?”