Everett protested. “The Herrera family doesn’t say that.”
“No, you’re right. The Herrera family never believed their daughter ran away, and they were absolutely the most vocal. They raised a fuss, they organized search parties, and they wouldn’t let it drop. And the funny thing is that girls stopped disappearing after that.”
“I’ll be right back,” Everett abruptly said, aiming a hard look at Alex that would have made Lily smile under any other circumstance. She could see a bit of the man he’d be in that narrow look, the muscles beneath his skin tightening enough to square off the round edges of his face.
Lily and Alex both stared at the door after he disappeared, until Alex finally spoke. “He’s going to check my alibi, isn’t he?”
“I think so.”
“Good boy.” Alex leaned back and tipped his head toward the blue sky. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
She turned to look at him, studying his face, his closed eyes, listening for the rest of the truth, because that wasn’t all. Alex was practically still holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Are you going to?” she finally asked.
“Yeah.” He turned his head and opened his eyes, and she felt struck by the way his face had already become familiar. “I didn’t just come here to organize my uncle’s things.”
“He seems to have a son who could do that.”
“He does. I came here because I’m working on the story.”
That surprised her, though she had no idea why. She’d thought maybe he’d come to find proof for his dying uncle or fulfill a promise to help with the research. “For your newspaper?”
“No. I did leave the paper. That wasn’t a lie. I’m thinking about a book or maybe even a podcast.” He flashed a nervous smile, but she ignored it. “Trying to keep up with the times, you know. Print journalism isn’t exactly thriving.”
Everett banged outside again, the door flying wide to reveal him still glaring. “Well, it checks out,” he snapped. “He was publishing stories in Ohio during a couple of the disappearances. He even did a video interview at a basketball game.”
Lily was surprised by the deep relief that sank through her at Everett’s declaration. She felt thankful for her own sake, of course, but more than that, she felt a sense of near deliverance that she hadn’t brought a dangerous man into her son’s life. If Alex had been revealed as a monster, she could never begin to trust herself again. Not with her own safety, and certainly not with her child’s.
“You’d make a great reporter,” Alex said. “Good work.”
Everett’s eyes still hadn’t softened from their narrowed glare, but at least he didn’t accuse Alex of murder again. Sadly, Lily took that as a positive sign.
But it wasn’t the end of this. Not by far.
CHAPTER 28
“I want to see what Everett saw,” his mother said. “He said there were photos? Articles?”
Alex nodded. “Sure, come to the locker.”
Everett glared at that and lifted his chin toward the camera when his mom looked at him.
She nodded. “No. Bring them here.”
“Oh.” Alex glanced up at the camera too. “Got it. Sure.”
After he walked away, his mom turned to him and opened her arms. Everett took three quick steps and sank into the safety of her hug. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You were trying to do the right thing. I know that. We’re all just trying to do the right thing, and we all screw up.”
He felt a few tears slip from her cheek into his hair. He tightened his hold on her and pressed his face harder into her shirt, sure that she still loved him, sure that she must. When he heard Alex’s footsteps returning, Everett didn’t scoot away; instead he stayed close to her side.
“Is there anything he shouldn’t see?” his mom asked.
Alex shook his head. “It’s nothing like that. I only hid it behind some boxes so there wouldn’t be any questions.”
Everett looked at the board with his mom. The women’s eyes met his, most of them happy and bright, the lids rimmed with dark makeup, staring right into the camera lens.
“They’re so young,” his mom whispered, and he knew they were, though they seemed mostly grown up to Everett.
All of them had long hair, some natural blondes, some with darker roots peeking out. With less makeup and different hairstyles, they’d look like the senior girls that gathered near the steps of Everett’s school.
“I’ve been trying to keep my head down,” Alex said. “Stay under the radar while I research the stories.”
“Why?” his mom asked. When he hesitated, she pressed harder. “Why did you look scared when the detective showed up?”
“It’s nothing concrete,” he said. He glanced toward Everett. She glanced toward him too.
The irritated meow of a cat drifted toward them from not too far away. “Everett, go feed your cat.”
He shook his head.
She looked like she’d protest, but then she slumped a little, weariness dragging her face down.
Alex reached out to touch the border of one of the photographs. It was an inkjet copy of a family shot, a laughing blond girl holding a tiny brown dog.
“This is Marti Herrera,” he said. “She’s the last woman who disappeared. The kidnappings or killings stopped after that, so either the guy died or moved away or went to prison for something else.”
“Right. People like that don’t just stop and take up car restoration. But if he’s gone . . . If he’s dead or in prison, that means there’s no danger in looking into it, right?”
“It’s not danger I’m worried about, exactly. It’s just . . . Nobody has ever done anything about these missing women. The police never connected the cases. All they did was blow off the disappearances, saying the girls ran away or moved on to a new life somewhere. At the very least, they displayed callousness, but it was likely absolute incompetence. They wouldn’t want anyone exposing that, would they? Not even now.”
“I’d imagine not. And I know how persistent they can be when something pisses them off.”
Alex cleared his throat and glanced at Everett. “In the interest of full honesty, Lily, I should tell you I looked you up online. After our dinner.”
“Oh.” It was all she said, but Everett felt his face prickle with self-consciousness for her and for himself.
“I’m sorry you two went through that,” Alex said.
“Everett,” his mom said, her voice harder this time. “Please go feed your cat. Alex and I will stay right here, and I’ll be inside in a few minutes.”
Shadow yowled as if she’d heard her. Everett hesitated, shifting back and forth on his feet a bit. He didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to feel. But he’d confirmed for himself that this Alex Bennick couldn’t have been responsible.
“I’ll be watching the camera,” he finally said, shooting out the words as if he could lay down a line of defense for his mom.
“Understood,” Alex said.
Still, Everett watched over his shoulder as he went inside. Instead of going to feed Shadow, he walked immediately to his mom’s work computer and watched the tiny square that held miniature versions of his mom and Alex.
His head felt a little floaty now, like a balloon, and the only real thought he could hold on to was that he needed to talk to Josephine, tell her everything was fine and it wasn’t Alex. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too mad at him about today.
When his mom and Alex barely moved on the screen, Everett felt silly watching them, as if he were overreacting again. And that thought let the shame in. He should have apologized to Alex for going into his house, for lying to his uncle.
He would, he decided. He’d go back out and say he was sorry as soon as he’d fed his cat.