“But can you tell for certain that it’s hers?” Ava pressed.

Lilian slid the photos closer and studied each one. “I don’t know. It was new. It didn’t have any tears or stains, and I didn’t write her name in it. So I guess I can’t say for certain. But it’s the right style with the rhinestone peace emblem.”

“And the socks?” Ava asked.

“Plain white socks. They look like what she has.”

“Is that blood on the socks, too?” Jake asked.

So the boy could speak this morning. “Yes,” said Ava.

“Did they find anything else?” Robin asked. She’d stayed back from the table, behind the island in the center of the kitchen, as if she didn’t want to get too close to the photos. She cut two cinnamon rolls out of the pan, plated them, and gave the breakfast to the cops, who graciously accepted. No one else asked for a roll, and Robin didn’t seem to expect any other takers. Ava hadn’t eaten since before the vigil last night, but she wasn’t hungry. The thought of biting into a gooey cinnamon roll didn’t appeal at the moment.

“Nothing else turned up at that scene,” answered Mason. “They searched the whole place before we left, although they still had the garbage to finish sorting. But the early lab results say the blood is the same type as Henley’s.”

Lucas looked ready to vomit. Silent tears streamed down Lilian’s cheeks.

“But that’s hardly any blood,” Lilian said. “That’s not enough to show that someone has been . . . hurt.” She whispered the word “hurt,” and Ava mentally substituted “killed.”

“We agree,” she said to Lilian.

“I can’t think of her out there in the cold,” cried Lilian. “Did they really look everywhere? She’ll be so cold without her sweatshirt and socks.” She dissolved in her seat, breaking into sobs, and laid her arms and head on the table. Lucas wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his face carefully blank. Robin came forward, took the chair next to Lilian, put her arms around the woman, and rested her head on her shoulder.

Jake shoved back his chair and left, his shoulders sagging and his face hidden. Mason followed him out of the room.

The cops stopped eating.

Ava wanted to run away. Instead, she moved closer to the table. “We went over the area with a fine-toothed comb. We still have people searching the fields outside the rest stop. If she’s there, we’ll find her. But frankly, I think the items were left for us to find. Like a distraction or something to put us off the real trail. Who loses both socks in the same place?” she asked.

“That doesn’t make sense,” agreed Lucas, his face hopeful. “They were probably placed there. Do you think it’s a fake, like the ransom note?”

Ava shook her head. “We don’t know. There was a general description of Henley’s clothing in the paper and on the news the first day, but from what I’ve seen, that clothing store has put out dozens of pink sweatshirts with different rhinestone patterns, right?”

Robin nodded, still embracing Lilian.

“So someone got lucky and picked exactly the right one? I don’t think so. I think it’s Henley’s clothing, but I think it was purposefully left for us to find. The big questions are why, and what does it mean? That’s where we’re at now,” Ava said gently.

Lucas reached for the seat beside him and picked up a newspaper. “Before we heard about Henley’s clothing, we were already concerned about what’s going on with Mason.” He tossed the paper on the table. “We wanted to ask Mason about this article. Jake saw it, too. We’ve all read it.”

Ava picked up the paper. Mason’s name was there in clear print. She scanned the article. It was a rehash of yesterday’s article but with his name added.

Who leaked?

“What do you need to know? Obviously, he didn’t do this.”

“Has he really been placed on leave? Why hasn’t he said anything?” Lucas asked.

Ava glared at him. “Because he’s worried out of his mind about your daughter. He’s putting every ounce of his strength into finding Henley and keeping his personal problems locked away. He didn’t want you to worry about anything else.”

“He could have said something.” Lucas toyed with the paper that Ava had tossed back on the table, his gaze averted.

“That’s how Mason operates,” said Robin slowly. “He sees it as his problem and no one else’s. He shoulders stuff like this alone. I’m not surprised one bit.”

“But he’s family,” argued Lucas.

Robin shook her head. “You don’t understand. That’s not how he thinks. In his brain, it’s none of our business.” She looked at Ava with experienced eyes. “He’ll keep it in until it eats him alive. I’ve watched it happen before. He needs someone to talk to about it, draw it out of him.”

Ava blinked. Did Robin suspect something between her and Mason?

Jake’s door slammed shut two seconds before Mason reached it. He pounded on the door. Jake knew he was right behind him. His boots weren’t exactly quiet. Mason counted silently to three.

Jake opened the door. The boy’s eyes were red and swollen. He turned away and walked over to the window and stared outside. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

Mason took a deep breath. “We don’t know that.”

“But the police think she is, right?”