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thought. Still do. But according to Sheriff Mackey, the autopsy showed Eddie’s blood-alcohol level was over twice the legal limit. Their theory is, he came home shitfaced, went after Sophie but she was waiting for him.”
    Nick took a minute or two to let everything she had told him sink in.
    “Any way you look at it, it doesn’t make a damn bit of sense,” he said. “She takes the time to go through her closet, pack a change of clothes, after she’s just witnessed your boyfriend’s murder? I don’t buy it. She would have been scared to death. She would have gotten out of that house as soon as possible. Hid in the woods till the killer took off, I don’t know. But she wouldn’t just hang around. Which means one of two things: either the cops are right, and she killed Eddie—you do need to prepare yourself for that possibility, Melissa—or his murderer allowed her to take some of her things along for a reason.”
    “Oh, God.”
    “Whoever killed Eddie, he didn’t want any witnesses, he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill her too. But if we’re onto something here, this person made her pack a change of clothes. That means your daughter is alive . And he planned to keep her that way.”
    “But what did he want with her? What is he doing to my baby right now ?” Melissa sobbed.
    Nick shook his head, didn’t know how to answer that. He opted not to mention another possibility: that his granddaughter might have been in cahoots with the culprit even if she didn’t pull the trigger.
    “She took her medicine with her too,” Melissa said. “Every time I think about that I want to break down again.”
    “Medicine?”
    “Lamictal. Sophie’s epileptic. It keeps her from having seizures.”
    Nick’s heart ached worse than ever for this young lady—both of them—who shared his blood yet remained a mystery to him.
    “She refused to go anywhere without her pills. Back when we were still talking, Aunt Patty told me Sophie had a seizure at school one time. Ever since, she’s been mortified at the thought of it happening again in public. She said a bunch of stuck-up cheerleader types recorded the whole thing on their iPhones so they could all laugh at it later.”
    “How often does she have to take this—”
    “Lamictal. Twice a day, every day.”
    Melissa started sobbing again.
    Around them, the sounds of the restaurant seemed a million miles away now: silverware clinking against dishes...the gurgle of a coffeemaker...the thwap of a spatula slapping meat patties on the grill.
    Nick sighed, rubbed at the stubble beneath his misshapen chin. His five o’clock shadow started low, halfway down his neck, as his disfigured face was completely hairless, like a plot of scorched earth where not even a single weed could survive.
    “I’m assuming I’m here ’cause you want to me to try to find her,” he said. “You think there’s something I can do that the law can’t?”
    “I was hoping you could talk to some people who might not give the police the time of day,” Melissa said. “If the cops don’t intimidate them...maybe you can.”
    “Maybe,” said Nick.
    “It’s been three weeks since Sophie disappeared. The cops are clueless. But I know she’s alive. I can feel it. She’s just waiting for us to come save her.”
    “Melissa...”
    “Will you try? Please? That’s all I’m asking. Will you try to find my baby?”
    Nick took a deep breath, let it out slowly.
    “Please,” she said again.
    “I’ll do what I can.”
    Even as the words fell from his mouth he had no idea what they meant. And he feared he might regret them.
    “You need to understand, though: I’m not the police. I’m not some private dick. These days I’m just a bouncer with a bum knee and a fucked-up face. Used to be a grappler, so I had a few moves once upon a time. I doubt I’ve got those anymore. The last thing I wanna do is get your hopes up, sweetheart. Promise me you won’t get your hopes up.”
    “I won’t,” she