“Nope,” I say. “I’m walking to Jenna’s. We’re going to find him. Or at least we’re going to try.” I don’t add “unlike you.” I don’t have to.
—
Jake doesn’t answer any of the five times I call or the three times I text on my way to Jenna’s. If the police won’t do it, I might have to assemble a search party myself. Who else will care as much as I do?
Kolt.
I stop to make the call before I go inside Jenna’s house.
Kolt answers without a hello. “Your boyfriend’s an asshole,” he says.
Your boyfriend. It takes me a second to realize he’s referring to Seth, not Jake.
“What are you talking about?”
“The police are on their way over. They have ‘a few more questions’ for me and decided to ‘stop by’ on their way back to the station. I told them everything already. What did Seth say?”
I think about Seth: the weird look on his face, the hesitation, the words he swallowed. “I don’t know,” I tell Kolt. “But Seth wouldn’t lie. He wouldn’t try to hurt anybody. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”
“The police are coming to my house, Daphne. Do you know what this will do to my parents? After all the shit my brother put them through?”
He’s right. Kolt pushes every limit he can, but he never breaks the law. Not after his brother.
“I know. And I’m sorry. But here’s what I called to say: I’m going to try to find Jake. Let me know if you want to help.”
My phone buzzes with another call, and my heart jolts. Is it him?
“I gotta go,” I tell Kolt, already pulling the phone from my ear.
But it’s not Jake. It’s Dad.
“Hello?” I say, letting a little annoyance sneak into my tone.
“Where are you?” he asks. “You okay?”
He knows about Jake. Of course he does.
“I’m fine, Dad. Just busy.”
“Did the police talk to you already? You know you’re allowed to have a lawyer present, don’t you?”
“Yes, Dad. And you know you’re not allowed to give legal advice, don’t you?”
He doesn’t laugh. “I’m allowed to do anything to keep my daughter safe. That’s why I called. Don’t think this is your problem to solve.”
Dammit. He knows me too well.
But I’m not giving in that easily. “If I can help, I’m going to.”
“Of course,” he says. “But no boyfriend is worth your health and safety, honey.”
I pace the sidewalk. “Dad. I know you never liked him, but give him a little credit. It’s not like anything to do with Jake automatically puts me in danger. And he’s not my boyfriend, remember? We broke up months ago.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asks. “I saw the way you were looking at him during the game. Kind of wondered if you two might be getting back together.”
“Dad. No.” I try to sound calm and sure, to tamp down the panic that wants to surface. What exactly did he see? And how exactly was I looking at Jake?
“Okay. I believe you. Just promise me you’ll let the police do their job. Promise me you’ll be smart.”
I sigh. “I will, Dad.”
I climb the steps and knock on Jenna’s door, feeling a little thrill of triumph. In the end, all I promised was to let the police do their job. He didn’t say I couldn’t try to do their job too. And to be smart—which is exactly what I intend to do.
Jenna swings the door open. She’s wearing a tank top and a pair of running shorts, even though it’s technically still winter. March is never warm in Ashland, but so far this one’s colder than most.
“What’s our move?” I ask her.
She breaks into a grin. “I was starting to wonder if you’d chickened out. Let’s go.”
“Where?” I ask.
She tosses a knot of clothes at me. “Running, dummy. Well, driving too, if we need to. But if we happen to end up on private property, it’ll look less suspicious if we’re out for a run. We still have a couple of hours of daylight left.”
I’m still baffled, so I ask the question again. “Yeah, but…where?”
“Wherever Jake would have gone. I mean, he would have driven from the school to his house after the bus dropped him off, so definitely that stretch. We’ll figure the rest out as we go. Talk to people who know him that the police might not think of. Stuff like that.”
It’s better than anything I’ve got, and my head is often clearest when I run, so I give in and go to Jenna’s room to change. The leggings are elastic enough that they fit great, and the shoes are okay too once I have a couple of pairs of socks on. The T-shirt says MIKE’S AUTO BODY on the front, and it’s not until I catch my reflection in the mirror that I realize it says I’VE GOT ALL THE RIGHT PARTS in giant letters across the back. Only Jenna.
We wind through town, down a path Jake and I have run on together before, up to the water tank, where sometimes people mess around late at night. The rhythm and the movement lift my heart and clear my mind enough that this feels like the right thing to do—a feeling that’s confirmed when we pass a newer neighborhood next to the trail.
“Hang on,” I say, slowing to a walk. There’s a house under construction, with guys coming in and out and climbing on the roof. It’s like an anthill over there. But the thing that catches my attention is an old pickup parked out front with TIM’S TOP-OF-THE-LINE ROOFING written on the door.
“Jake works for them. Or worked.” I’m pretty sure he quit after his accident, but he didn’t like to talk about what happened that day.
“Let’s go,” Jenna says. And before I can stop her, she’s bounding up to the house and shouting at the guys on the roof.
“Hey! Is one of you Tim?”
A super-built guy in a gray henley looks down
