Page 110 of What She Saw

“Think?”

“She wanted to go, but I said no. So she went to stay at her friend’s lake house.”

“But she didn’t go to the lake house.”

“No. My youngest daughter, Lannie, knew Tristan was going to the concert, but she didn’t tell me or her mother. We only just found out that Tristan wasn’t at the lake.”

Taggart remained silent. Young girls and boys made dumb decisions. He’d seen his share in the military. “When did Lannie tell you the truth?”

“After your press conference. She called Tristan’s friend and discovered Tristan never made it back to the lake house. My youngest admitted that Tristan had gone to the concert.”

“How did Tristan get to the concert?”

“She caught a ride with her friend Callie. The girls separated at the front gate.”

“And the concert was overcrowded. Rain. Mud. They lost track of each other.”

“That’s what Callie said.”

Taggart ran through the standard questions: Did Tristan have a boyfriend? Had anyone been hassling her? Any threats or anything out of the ordinary? All no.

He wrote down a few of his impressions:Nervous. Fidgety. Tense.“There’s no other place she could have gone?”

Frown lines furrowed Fletcher’s brow. “I’ve called all her friends.”

“And everything’s all right in the home?”

Fletcher’s eyes hardened. “We have challenges, but we’re a happy family. My wife has terminal cancer. And Tristan would not run off knowing this.”

“But Tristan defied you and went to the concert.”

“What the hell are you trying to say?”

“I have to ask all the tough questions, Mr. Fletcher.”

“She’s a good kid. I know she snuck off to the concert, but that’s not like her.”

Fletcher loved his daughter but, like many parents, didn’t see the truth. “Okay. Let’s start from the top, and I’ll fill out the missing person report.”

“Is anyone out there searching?”

“We have volunteers walking the woods around the concert site. We’re doing all we can now.”

“How can so many girls go missing?” he asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Phones rang in the background. “All those phones you hear? They’re tips called into the office.”

Fletcher’s brow knotted. “Have you found the bodies?”

“Not yet. But we’re doing everything we can.” Taggart had learned a long time ago not to make promises he couldn’t keep.

Everything we can.Everything. Taggart saw a lot of activity, but no results. They were checking boxes. But was that everything?

His own words rattled in his head as he drove to Colton’s house. He shut off his lights as he parked across the street. Colton’s house was dark, and there was no sign of life.

The concert promoter had screwed up so much, but he’d had the site cleaned. Every bottle, sheet of paper, or discarded piece of clothing was gone.

The spring chill had given way to summer heat in a matter of days. The air in the car grew stuffy, so he rolled down a window. Crickets sang their night song.