“I thought I was. But of course doubts have crept in over the years. That was why I wanted to keep my uncle’s papers here. I didn’t want Brian to know I was looking into this.”
“Because now you think your cousin could have kidnapped those women?”
He bent his head as if the weight of the world were bowing his spine, but he finally pushed himself straight and sucked in a breath. “No. Because either he was involved—and I don’t think he was—or I’d be triggering the worst memories of his life. Those are both really bad options. But no, he wasn’t involved. I’m ninety-nine percent sure.”
“Why?”
“First, like I said, I don’t think he was capable as a teenager without a car. But mostly because of the boy he was. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t dangerous, not to anyone but himself. He still isn’t. He’s a gentle, thoughtful man struggling with demons that can only harm him.”
Everett finally spoke up. “You look like him.”
“People mistake us for brothers, yes.”
“So maybe it was you who was seen with Mary. Maybe he was never involved at all.”
Alex smiled a little sadly. “That’s a smart theory, but I really was in college in Ohio at the time.” He held up a hand when Everett opened his mouth. “And I know just what a savvy investigator would say, so I’ll tell you right now to go check the dates of all those articles. I wasn’t here, Everett. I swear.”
Lily cleared her throat. “Okay, but what about your uncle? You already said he knew those girls.”
Alex’s head was shaking before she’d even finished talking. “I know him, Lily. He’s a wonderful man.”
Everett snorted. “Everyone always says that until the truth comes out.”
Lily tipped her head in question, because everyone did always say that. He was quiet, he was involved with the community, he never gave any indication . . .
“Uncle Alex asked for my help a few years ago. He wouldn’t have done that if he were involved. Yes, he got a little obsessed with the cases, but that seems normal, doesn’t it? His son was accused. He knew these women. Heck, in a town this size, most people knew these women.”
“True,” Lily said. “So why wasn’t everyone else obsessed?”
“My uncle says the town considered them throwaways. People expected the worst for them, and hardly anyone blinked an eye when the worst happened. And no bodies have ever been found, so it’s not even murder. Hell, most people barely remember the girls at this point, and those who do will say they’re just runaways. Lord knows teenagers around here are still desperate to get away from Herriman.”
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.”