“Is Skylar all right?” he asked quickly.

“She’s missing.” Zoe maintained a soft, even tone designed to calm. She needed the kid to remain focused.

The boy drew back, shaking his head. “I knew something was wrong. She always answers my texts and calls. Always.”

“We are doing our best to find her,” Zoe said. “We’re hoping you might know where she could be. Where does she go when she needs to get away from her home?”

Pale brows knotted. “She always came to my house when she wasn’t here or at home. We hung out almost all the time.”

“I know you must care about her very much,” she said.

“I love her,” he insisted.

“If she didn’t go to your house, where would she go?” Zoe asked.

“Nowhere. She’s always with me.”

“What about Jessica Harris?” Zoe asked.

“Skylar and Jess don’t speak anymore. They hate each other.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Skylar never would say. I think Jessica was jealous because Skylar was spending her time with me.”

“How often did Skylar come by your house?” Zoe asked.

“A few nights a week.”

“When was the last night she was there?” Zoe asked.

“Last night. Monday.”

Hadley had been with Dawson. “Was everything all right at her house?”

Neil chewed the inside of his mouth. “I don’t know.”

Zoe deliberately softened her expression. “We aren’t trying to get anyone in trouble, Neil. We’re just trying to quickly find Skylar and her mother. We are very worried about them.”

“Did you ask Mr. Foster?” the boy countered. “He should be able to help.”

“Mr. Foster is in the hospital. He just came out of surgery,” Vaughan asked.

The boy’s worried expression took on a panicked edge. “Surgery? What happened?”

Zoe sidestepped the question. “Neil, were there problems in the Foster house?”

A ragged sigh shuddered through him. “Skylar said her parents fought a lot. That’s why she came to my house. She wanted to get away from the yelling.”

“What were they fighting about?” Vaughan asked.

“Mr. Foster wasn’t doing so well at work, and Mrs. Foster is obsessed with being perfect. It drives her crazy when the house, Sky, or her husband aren’t as meticulous as she is. The Fosters tried to hide their problems from Sky, but she knew them all.”

“Was there anyone who might have been threatening the family?” Vaughan asked.

“I don’t know about that.” Neil hesitated and then added, “Skylar said her mother has been really weird for the last couple of months. She’s been a nervous wreck and worried.”

“Did Skylar say what upset her mother?” Vaughan asked.

“She didn’t know. She said she asked her a bunch of times, but her mother said it was no big deal. Skylar said her mother always gets a little weird this time of year anyway.”

“Why?” Zoe asked.

“Skylar says she always gets sad and quiet near the end of summer.”

Marsha Prince had vanished in August. “You said she came to your house a few nights a week. What did Skylar do on the other nights?”

“She said homework and school functions.”

“Do you know the passcode to her phone?” Zoe asked.

“Yeah, it’s 1812. She’s a history buff.”

“Is there anyone who would want to hurt her?”

“I don’t know who. Sky keeps to herself,” Neil said. “We’re pretty tight.”

The kid saw the girl several nights a week but not all of them. “You have any trouble with her parents?” Zoe asked.

“No. I mean, I almost never talk to them. Mr. Foster is working, and Mrs. Foster is at the gym.”

“When’s the last time you saw them?” Vaughan asked.

“A few weeks ago. They seemed to be getting on fine. Mr. Foster gave me fifty bucks and asked me to take Skylar to a movie and dinner.”

“Thank you, Neil.” Vaughan wrote down his cell phone number on his business card and handed the boy his card. “If you hear of anything, call me. Doesn’t matter when. If you have to get up and leave class, do it.”

“Okay. What do I do now?” the boy asked. “Should I go and look for her?”

“No. You wait. And we’re going to keep looking,” Vaughan said.

“Do you think Sky is all right?” the boy asked. “She could be hurt or something.”

“We don’t know.” Zoe thought about the blood in the Foster house. “That’s why we’re moving as fast as we can to find her.”

“The more time that passes, the greater the chances that it won’t end well,” Vaughan said.

If his intent was to scare the boy, the kid’s pale, drawn face said he had done just that. “Call us if you hear anything,” Zoe said.

“Especially if she finds a way to reach you,” Vaughan said. “You won’t be protecting her by not telling us.”

“I’ll help. I promise.”

Vaughan obtained Jessica Harris’s address from the principal and instructed him to keep this conversation confidential and his eyes open.

Outside the school, the pair crossed to his vehicle and climbed inside.

“What did you think of Bradford?” Vaughan asked.

“He reads genuine,” she said.

“Yeah.”

As he backed out of the space, he called the forensic department and read off Skylar’s passcode to her phone. “I need any texts or emails that might seem a bit off or troublesome.”

Phone still pressed to his ear, Vaughan said to her, “He’s pulling the phone right now.”

“I’d bet money her life’s secrets are on that phone,” Zoe said.

They drove less than a block, and then Vaughan said, “Let me put you on speakerphone. I have Agent Spencer with me.”

“Hello, Agent Spencer. This is Bud Clary.”

“I’m surprised we found you in the lab,” she said.

“Just barely,” he said. “We just had the Fosters’ Lexus towed to the forensic lab, and I was checking messages. That code you gave me for Skylar’s phone worked.”

“I’m interested in both text and email messages but also any apps that have encrypted messaging options.” Several apps required an additional passcode to view communications. Keeping notes between friends seemed innocent enough until a predator twisted the app’s intent and started a dialogue with an unsuspecting teen. There had been several instances of older men communicating with young teens and grooming them for sex or prostitution.

“The texts seem fairly ordinary,” Bud said. “We have texts between Skylar and Neil Bradford. They tell each other how much they love the other or what they want to eat for dinner. Texts from Mom telling Skylar to be home for dinner.”

“What about the apps?” Zoe asked.

He read them off. “I can open all of them but one. It has a messaging feature but requires a passcode.”

“Try 1812.”