I scoop up the phone, my hands shaking so badly I can barely swipe to answer. Don’t hang up, Quinn! I just need to get my fingers working again.

Finally, the call connects. I gasp into the phone, “Quinn?”

I expect to hear my sister’s high, sweet voice. Instead, I hear a much deeper voice. “Hello?”

My breath catches in my throat. It’s a man. A man is calling on Quinn’s phone. Does that mean he’s kidnapped her? And he’s going to demand ransom?

“Who is this?” I manage.

There’s a long pause on the other line. “Who is this?”

What is going on here? “Why are you on my sister’s phone?”

“I found this phone,” the male voice tells me. “It was in the back of my truck.”

I frown, not sure what to make of this development. “The back of your truck? What are you talking about?”

“I was getting something out of my truck and I saw the phone in there. And there were all these missed calls from somebody named Claudia. Is that you?”

“That’s me.”

“I don’t know how the phone got in my truck, but I’d be happy to return it.”

He poses an excellent question. How did the phone get in his truck?

I spoke with Quinn on the phone, so it was in her possession when we were talking. Shortly after that, I discovered Derek’s dead body. At that point, she was no longer answering her phone. So sometime between our call and when I found Derek, the phone ended up in this guy’s car.

The real question is, is this guy on the level? Or is he just messing with me? If I go retrieve the phone from him, will he hit me on the head and try to stuff me in his closet?

I’d like to see him try. Unlike Quinn, I’m a fighter. “Who is your sister?” the guy asks.

“Her name is Quinn. She—” “Wait—Quinn Mackey?”

There’s a note of surprise and eagerness in his voice. Also, he used our maiden name. I realize at this moment that this man did not do anything terrible to my sister. He’s just a guy who found her phone in his truck.

“That’s right,” I say. “Do you know her?”

“Yeah! My name is Bill Walsh. She used to babysit for me years ago, and I actually saw her earlier today. At a gas station maybe half an hour north of here.”

I suck in a breath. “You saw her? When?”

“Um. I’m not sure. Maybe five o’clock? I had just finished work.”

My heart is pounding. He saw Quinn. He saw her after our phone call. “Was she alone?”

“Seemed to be. She bought a few things at the store, I think she took out some money, then she ran off. She seemed to be in a big hurry.”

“There was nobody else in the car?” “Not that I could see.”

I chew on my lower lip. “How did she look? Did she look… nervous? Scared? Hurt?”

He thinks about it for a moment. “Now that you mention it, she seemed kind of nervous. But she looked good otherwise. Really good.”

Great. This idiot was hitting on my sister. “Is the phone locked?”

“Yeah. I could only call you because your phone call was on the lock screen.”

That means even if I get my hands on the phone, I won’t be able to do much with it. “Look,” I say, “I’m going to call

the police about the phone. They’re going to come pick it up from you.”

“The police?” Bill Walsh sounds panicked. “But I didn’t steal it! I found it in my truck. I swear…”

“I know. But… Quinn is missing.”

His breath hitches. “You don’t think that I…”

I don’t. My gut is telling me this guy is just an innocent passerby. Quinn wanted to get rid of her phone so she couldn’t be tracked, so she tossed it in his truck. It’s what I would’ve done. I’m proud of her for thinking on her feet.

And that means Quinn isn’t being held captive somewhere. She left on her own volition. Probably right after she stabbed Derek to death.

This changes everything.

It means that if the police find Quinn, she’s going straight to jail. It means this is a manhunt, not a rescue mission.

The right thing to do—the legal thing to do—would be to call Scott Dwyer and tell him this new piece of information. He’s in charge of this investigation, and this is a significant piece of evidence.

But I don’t trust Scott. I don’t know what he’s going to do when he finds out that Quinn was alive and well and alone right after her husband was stabbed. But it won’t be good for Quinn.

I can’t let that happen. I have to play this right.

“Well, you could see how this looks,” I say. “A woman goes missing and you mysteriously have her phone. Doesn’t look good for you, Bill.”

“But I just found it in my truck,” he says in a tiny voice. “I swear, I didn’t touch her.”

“I hope for your sake the police believe that story.”

“Shit,” I hear him mutter under his breath. “I… I don’t know what to say. I’m a good guy. I’d never hurt a woman. And… Christ, my girlfriend would kill me if she thought I…”

“Look,” I say. “I believe you. I’m just not sure the police will.”

“Well, maybe I could give you back the phone and you don’t have to tell them…”

I glance at the door to the bedroom. Rob is still downstairs—I’d rather he not hear this. “Tell you what, Bill. Why don’t I come by and get the phone from you. I’ll bring it to the police tomorrow and I won’t tell them you were involved.”

“You would do that?”

“Sure. I can tell from your voice you’re an honest man. I just want to find out what happened to my sister.”

“Me too,” he says earnestly. “Quinn was a nice girl. She was my favorite babysitter. I… I hope you find her.”

“Me too.” I’m going to find her. And I’m going to find her before the police do.

“So can you come by tonight?”

I glance out the window. The snow is really coming down. If I leave now, Rob will have a fit. He’ll want to know where I’m going, and I’ll have to have a damn good answer. “I’ll come first thing in the morning. In the meantime, just power the phone down. If it’s off, nobody can track it.”

“Got it.”

I wonder how old Bill Walsh is. He’s younger than Quinn, if she babysat for him. Maybe early twenties. He sounds like a kid who will do anything I say. If I say it the right way.

“I’ll come by tomorrow morning,” I promise. “Just give me your address.”