“Or he shares what she’s done with a teammate, like Kevin, and he kills her. They were thick as thieves.”

Nevada shifted his gaze to a black-and-white photo taken of an old farmhouse. “Judging by the terrain, the property is in the area, but I can’t quite pinpoint the location.” He snapped a picture of the image.

“DNA will identify Matt’s biological father and perhaps the killer. But none of this puts us closer to finding Bennett,” Macy said.

“Kevin still hasn’t given his DNA.”

She dialed his phone, and again her call went to voicemail. “And it looks like he’s now dodging me.”

Everyone left a digital footprint these days. Carry a cell, drive a car less than ten years old, or browse the Internet—someone was watching. This digital connection made it easier for guys like Nevada to find people. Give him a laptop and a few basic details, and he could find anyone.

Nevada sent Sullivan by Kevin’s house, and he discovered the residence was empty and locked up tight. Next Sullivan went to Bruce’s house, but there was no sign of him either, or of his car. Neither man’s cell phone was transmitting, and neither had used credit cards in days. Bruce’s car was finally tracked to a parking lot on the university campus, but a search of the vehicle revealed no sign of him. Kevin remained unaccounted for.

Rafe Younger wasn’t so clever about covering his tracks. He’d used his credit card to buy gas in Deep Run, beer in Staunton, and then to rent a room in a small motel an hour southwest of Lexington, Virginia.

Nevada and Macy parked in the motel lot where Rafe Younger was currently living. The motel was one story and consisted of fifteen rooms. Nevada got Rafe’s room number from the clerk, and he and Macy knocked on room 106. Each stood to the side with weapons drawn.

Inside the room a television switched off. “It’s Sheriff Nevada. Mr. Younger, you have five seconds to open the door.”

For a moment there was silence, and then footsteps moved toward the door and a chain scraped free of its lock. The door opened to Rafe Younger. A cigarette dangled from his long fingers.

“What is this all about?” Rafe asked. “Something happen to Debbie again? She’s not here.”

“She’s with her parents,” Nevada said. “I have questions about Bruce Shaw.”

“Bruce?” He took a long drag on his cigarette. “What about Bruce?”

Nevada and Macy swept the room to make sure Rafe was alone. Lying on the rumpled sheets of the unmade bed was a half bottle of Fireball, a pizza box, and an ashtray filled with cigarette butts.

Macy sat Rafe in a chair.

“What’s going on?” Rafe asked.

“I want to know about the night Tobi showed up at the bonfire. I want to know what happened.”

Rafe took another drag, still confused. “Nothing happened.”

“That’s not what Cindy Shaw said.”

“Cindy. Jesus. She was always messed up. Drank more than even me.”

“Earlier you said Cindy got Tobi drunk. Who took Tobi into the woods?”

“I don’t know about that. I told you I was drunk.”

“You know,” Nevada said, “you and your teammates were legendary when it came to sticking together. Your loyalty is going to earn you an accomplice to murder charge in about two minutes.”

“Murder? I didn’t kill anyone.”

“You’re protecting one of your boys.”

“Look, Tobi did get drunk, and maybe one of the guys popped her cherry, but no one hurt her.”

“Come on, you four boys didn’t have to chase girls because they came to you. You were rock stars. You also didn’t like any girl to tell you no. Which one of you four got carried away with Tobi?”

Nevada moved to within inches of Rafe, using his height to intimidate. Macy moved to the door and put the chain back on it.

Rafe shifted, dropping his gaze. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Then answer the question,” Nevada said.

“We bent the rules,” Rafe said. “But I never was into hurting anybody.”

“What about Bruce Shaw?” Macy asked. “He preferred a type of girl, didn’t he? Young, with long dark hair. Remind you of anybody?”

“We all had types. Shit, I’ll do a blonde with big tits anytime. But that don’t mean I’m going to kill one.” He ground his spent cigarette into a nearby ashtray.

“Fair enough.” Nevada leaned in closer. “Let’s talk about Bruce.”

“Bruce was always there for the team. He was there for me. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. Sometimes he blew off steam, but it was never anything extreme. Sex, booze, most of the usual stuff an eighteen-year-old would do.”

“Most? When did he start stalking girls?” Macy asked.

Rafe closed his eyes. “He didn’t stalk girls.” He shook his head. “And I didn’t have anything to do with those murders,” he rushed to say.

“There’s another woman missing. You’ll go down for her murder if I can’t save her.”

Rafe looked up at Nevada. “I saw a notebook once in the locker room. It was in Bruce’s gym bag.”

“What kind of notebook?” Nevada asked.

“Like a diary. I picked it up because I was curious. I thought I’d tease him about writing poetry or about his feelings. Then I realized he was keeping notes on girls.”

“Did you see a name?” Nevada asked.

“Yeah.”

Nevada reached for his cuffs.

“Ellis. And Brooke.”

“Brooke Bennett?”

“Yeah. She was smoking hot before she became a cop and forgot how to smile.”

“What else did you see?” Nevada asked.

“Nothing. Bruce came up and he saw me reading it. I gave it back, but when he looked at it, he got real quiet. He swore it wasn’t his, and he told me to keep my mouth shut.”

“Did anyone else see it?” Macy asked.

“Kevin Wyatt saw it. He was standing right there. He didn’t look shocked. It was like he knew what it was.”

“Was there anyone else there?” Nevada asked.

“Sully also heard us talking.”

“Sully?” Macy asked. “Deputy Sullivan?”

“Yeah.”

“He wasn’t on the team,” Nevada said.

“But he helped out a lot. He loved it all.”

Sullivan had never mentioned the diary. “Are Kevin, Bruce, and Sully close friends?”

“Kevin and Bruce were always tight. Sully came along for the ride sometimes.”

Sully was in the system because he was a cop. Kevin still hadn’t given a DNA sample. And Bruce was in the wind.

Nevada pulled up the image of the black-and-white photo in Bruce’s office. “Have you ever seen this place?”

Rafe studied the picture. “I’m not sure.”

“Focus, damn it!” Nevada ordered.

Rafe leaned in. “I think we all went there once when we were playing ball.”

“Who’s we?” Macy asked.

“You know, the guys on the football team.” Rafe shook his head. “We did so much partying then. It’s hard to remember.”

“Let’s go,” Nevada said.

Macy heard the frustration in Nevada’s voice. But the life of Bennett was at stake, and saving her was the only option they could entertain right now.

“Where?” Rafe stammered.

“To the station,” Nevada said. “You and I are going to be looking at aerial maps until you figure it out.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Thursday, November 21, 8:00 p.m.

When Macy and Nevada arrived at the sheriff’s office with Rafe in tow, Sullivan greeted them. Macy had questions for the deputy, but before she could ask one, he reported that Ms. Rhonda Burns was waiting for them in the conference room.

Nevada escorted Rafe to a holding cell. “Stay put.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Do you want to be? I’ll be right back.” He closed the cell door.

“Sure seems like an arrest.”

Nevada strode back to his deputy. “Sullivan, we need to talk.”

“Sure, boss. What’s up?” Nevada pulled Sullivan and Macy into his office.

“What did you do with the football team during the 2004 season?”

“Not much. I was in school and needed a part-time job. The coach hired me to take care of the equipment.”

“Rafe said you were around when he spotted a notebook in Bruce’s gym bag. Kevin was also there.”

“They might have seen it, but I didn’t. I wasn’t in their club. I was staff as far as they were concerned.”

“What was the deal with Kevin and Bruce?” Macy asked.

“Tight. They covered for each other.”

“Did you go to any of the bonfires?” Macy asked.

“Hell no. I stayed away from that.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t welcome.” The phone started ringing. “Do you want me to take a DNA test?”

“Yes,” Macy said.

“Fine. Get one right now.” The phone continued to ring. “You want me to get that, or am I relieved of my duties?”

“Get back to your station, Sullivan,” Nevada said. “I’ll have one of the other deputies swab your cheek right now so this is settled.”

“Sure thing, Sheriff.”

After he left, Nevada looked at her. “What do you think?”

“Sullivan seems legit. He’s not afraid to take the test. But I’m annoyed he didn’t mention he knew these guys.”

“The Dream Team was tight. And it makes sense they’d not have trusted a staff member with their secrets.”

Macy ran her hand through her hair. Her frustration was growing as an invisible clock ticked away the remaining time on Bennett’s life.