Trey follows him indoors, close on his heels. “I wanta know.”

“And I’m gonna tell you. But if we want a chance at the rabbits, we need to get ourselves set up before they come out for their dinner.”

After a moment Trey accepts this with a nod. Cal gets his gun out of the safe and fills up his pockets with the other things they might need—bullets, his hunting knife, a bottle of water, a plastic bag—and they head for their spot facing the edge of the wood. The sky is one motionless spread of sulky gray cloud, with streaks of pale-rinsed yellow under the western edge. The grass is heavy with rain, and the earth gives underfoot.

“We’re gonna get wet,” Cal says. “And muddy.”

Trey shrugs.

“OK,” Cal says, settling himself on one knee in the grass. “You remember everything I showed you the other day?”

Trey gives him the moron look and holds out his hands for the gun.

“OK,” Cal says, handing it over. “Let’s see.”

Trey checks the gun, clicks the safety on and loads it, slowly but neatly and methodically, making no mistakes. Then he looks up at Cal.

“Good,” Cal says.

Trey keeps looking at him, unblinking. “Rabbits aren’t out yet.”

“All right,” Cal says. He sits himself down in the wet grass, takes the gun from Trey and rests it across his knees. He didn’t want to tell Trey that Brendan had some plan till he knew what it was, but nobody appears to have any intention of sharing that information with him, and he needs to get it somehow. “Here’s your update. I’ve talked to a bunch of people. What I’m getting is that Brendan had got pretty frustrated with being poor, so he came up with some plan that he reckoned would fix that. That fits with what you told me about him promising you a bike for your birthday. When’s your birthday?”

“Third of May.” The kid’s eyes are fixed on Cal like he’s a preacher about to hand down the Word. It makes Cal edgy. He turns his voice a few notches more casual.

“So he figured the cash would be coming in pretty soon. You got any idea what his plan might’ve been?”

“He gave grinds sometimes. Coulda been more of those. Exams were coming up.”

“I doubt it. He also talked about taking a vacation in Ibiza, and about showing people he was going places. Tutoring a few kids wasn’t gonna cover all that. He was thinking bigger.”

Trey lifts his shoulders, baffled.

“No ideas?”

The kid shakes his head.

“The other thing I heard,” Cal says, “is that your brother was nervous about police, the week before he went missing.”

“Bren’s not dodgy,” Trey says instantly and fiercely, glaring. “Just ’cause he’s a Reddy, everyone thinks—”

“I’m not saying he’s dodgy, kid,” Cal says. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard, from people who care about him. Can you think of any reason why he mighta been scared of police?”

“Maybe he had a bitta hash on him. Or a few yokes.”

“He was scareder than that. This wasn’t some pissant little thing he was dealing with. Like I said, your brother was thinking big. And if his big plan was on the up-and-up, then how come no one can tell me what it was?”

“He mighta wanted to surprise people,” Trey says, after a moment. “Like, ye all thought I was a waster, fuck you.”

“You ever think he was a waster?”

“No!”

“Then why would he need to surprise you?”

Trey shrugs. “Just felt like it, maybe.”

“Lemme ask you something,” Cal says. “When Brendan was planning out what he wanted to do in college, he tell you about it?”

“Yeah.”

“When he was thinking about doing tutoring?”

“Yeah.”

“He tell you his plan to get Caroline tickets to some singer for Christmas?”

“Yeah. Hozier. They broke up first, but, so he sold the tickets to Eugene. Why?”

Cal says, “So Brendan told you his plans, when there was no particular reason he shouldn’t.”

“Yeah. He did.”

“Which means, whatever his big idea was, there was a reason why you shouldn’t know about it.”

Trey is silent. Cal is quiet too, leaving him to turn that over and fit it into his mind. At the edge of the woods, the branches hang heavy with leftover rain. Above them, swallows arc tiny and black against the cloud, sending down their high twittering.

After a few moments Trey says suddenly and savagely, “I wouldn’ta ratted him out.”

“I know that,” Cal says. “I bet he did too.”

“Then why would he not—”

“He wanted to keep you safe, kid,” Cal says gently. “Whatever he was getting into, he knew it could bring trouble. Bad trouble.”

Trey goes silent again. He picks threads out of a hole in the knee of his jeans.

“I think we can make a fair guess,” Cal says, “that when Brendan left your house that day, acting like he had somewhere important to be, it was connected to his plan some way or other. I’m not taking it as definite, but I’m gonna go ahead and work on that assumption. Either he was skipping town because he got spooked, or else he was going to do something that would move that plan forwards.”

The kid is still messing with his jeans, but his head has tilted towards Cal. He’s listening.

“He promised you the bike that same afternoon, and a couple days earlier he borrowed a few bucks from Fergal and said he’d pay him back. So it doesn’t seem likely he intended to leave for good. He might have been planning on lying low just for a few days, till whatever spooked him had died down, but in that case I’d expect him to take his phone charger, deodorant, coupla changes of clothes. Seeing as all he took with him was his cash, it seems more likely he was headed to buy something, or to give someone money.”

Trey says, low and tight, “And they kidnapped him.”

“Could be,” Cal said. “We’re not far enough on to settle on that yet. Something could’ve gone wrong, maybe, and he had to run. Where would he meet someone? He have anywhere special he liked to go?”

Trey’s eyebrows twitch together. “Like a pub?”

“Nah. Somewhere private. You said when he needed a little privacy, he went up the mountains. Anywhere in particular that you know of?”