“Yeah, all right.” He’d forgotten about the stupid phones. “What did Lyle say and where did he go?”
“I don’t know where he went.” Darrell turned his head, watching as Bailey flopped down by his chew toy. The dog wedged the bone between his front paws and set to work, gnawing on the end. “Lyle was wired, acting bizarre. He stayed long enough to wolf down a meal and bum some cash. I told him I was short on funds, but could tell he didn’t buy it. I was worried he might go ape on me, so I gave him a few tens. He kept talking about getting even.”
“With me, right?” Aside from the money and the meal, Darrell’s account was similar to Katie’s
“Heck no. Where’d you get that idea?”
Ryan balked, caught off guard. “From Katie Lynch. He confronted her because he heard we’re together.”
“No, you got it all wrong.” Darrell shook his head like a dog casting off fleas. “Lyle thinks Caden is with Katie. It’s your brother he wants to get even with.”
“Huh?” Ryan stepped back as if physically slapped. All the ideas he’d tucked into a tidy package flopped belly upright. “What’s his beef with Caden?”
“Don’t know. All I could figure is that it’s got something to do with a girl they knew in high school.”
Great. His brother had dated a lot of girls. Trying to pin down one that Lyle liked was going to be a lost cause. It didn’t make sense the guy would hold a grudge over something for so long. “Where’d he go?”
Darrell worked his bony shoulders into a shrug. “Didn’t say. He’s pretty much living out of his car, an old white T-bird. I never thought he’d part with his Bronco, but he said it bit the dust in Pennsylvania.”
Pennsylvania.
Something Lach Evening said clicked abruptly into place. A vital piece of information Ryan had overlooked from their discussion the previous night.
Mr. Mason grew up here, not in Austin.
Austin, Pennsylvania was the postmark on the envelope Caden had received nearly two weeks ago. Ryan should have caught the comment immediately. The note inside had been cryptic, referencing a girl. Apparently the girl for Lyle. Hell, the guy really was unhinged.
With the phone lines down, he wasn’t going to be able to warn his brother by dialing. “All right, tell me everything Lyle said. It might not make sense to you or me, but it could trigger something for Caden.”
He stayed another five minutes, jotting notes. Lyle had rambled on about “Flynn” and his need to right a wrong from the past. He mentioned a girl several times, but no name. Only that Flynn had taken her from him and had to pay. Darrell had gotten his plate number when he burned rubber out of the drive, one small victory for Ryan to add to an APB.
If Lyle figured out his mistake—that Caden wasn’t with Katie—he might try to track him down at home. That could potentially place Eve in danger, or even Ryan and Caden’s mother.
Maybe there was more in his yearbook than Caden thought.
Thanking Darrell for his time, Ryan returned to his car, then headed for town.
The phones were still wonky by the time Ryan reached the sheriff’s office. Joy and another clerk traded rumors about odd lights at the TNT, a few of the glowing objects supposedly spotted in the early dawn hours. The spacemen no longer limited their travel to nighttime. There’d been another sighting of the Mothman, too, but the report turned out to be a teenage prank.
Ryan stopped by Pete’s office and gave him an update on the news he’d gotten from Darrell, including the plate number of Lyle’s Thunderbird. Weston ordered him to share all relevant information with Lach Evening, confirming the guy’s story, though sketchy, appeared to check out. Ryan mumbled an agreement but was more concerned with tracing Caden’s connection to Lyle. Returning to the main office area, Ryan grabbed a cup of coffee, then stationed himself at Caden’s desk. Intent on one item only, he fished through the drawers, locating what he sought in the bottom right.
“Bingo!” His brother hadn’t bothered to take his high school yearbook home. Right now the old tome could prove a goldmine. Before, Ryan had been interested in photos, now all he cared about were autographs. Odds were the girl who’d meant so much to Lyle had probably penned a love note inside Caden’s yearbook.
Moving back to his own desk, Ryan settled down for a trip into the past. Most of the messages were filled with the elation of graduating. Exclamations like “we made it,” “I want a copy of your first gold record,” or “time to party hardy and pig out” were common. A couple referenced Vietnam, peace protests, or the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. Sadly, Bobby Kennedy would be dead two days after Caden’s graduation. Ryan still remembered seeing news footage, glued to the television like everyone else in the country, hoping and praying the senator would pull through. It had been a dreadful time. Even at thirteen, he’d felt the horror of the tragedy.
Shoving the distressing memories aside, he kept reading.
Comments from close friends filled the pages of Caden’s yearbook, along with lengthy notes from plenty of girls. The girls gushed about Caden’s music and his “dreamy” singing voice, adorning their signatures with smiley faces, peace signs, and hearts.
Ryan paid most attention to the hearts. The first one was from someone named Becky:
I’ll never forget that night at the Fairgrounds when you sang “Nowhere Man.” I felt like you were singing just for me, trying to tell me something. We had good times and bad times, but I’ll never forget any of them. Even when I’m old and gray, I’ll keep you in my heart.
As if to prove the point, she signed her message with two intertwined hearts.
Ryan jotted her name on a tablet.