After the boys have been questioned, Zoey locks them in a jail cell so they get a taste of it. A glimpse into a future they’ll want to avoid. She then joins Clay and Judd in her office. Judd has brewed a pot of coffee, which seems necessary as the sky lightens outside Zoey’s office window. They compare the boys’ stories and find them consistent.
“My guess is they’re not lying,” says Zoey. “Their bulbs don’t burn bright enough to concoct those details, memorize them all, and recall them under pressure.”
“Seems that way,” says Judd.
“I want to hold off with charges,” she says. “At least for now. It may be unavoidable, but I hate for kids to have that on their record. That’s partly up to you, though, Judd, since you were the one who was assaulted. Clay, your truck was stolen. You’re free to press charges now and that will be that.”
Clay watches something change in his father. Soften. Maybe it’s just fatigue—they haven’t slept in twenty-four hours. But Judd seems to have embraced Zoey’s ability as a police officer. Or if not embraced, then accepted.
“No need to press charges right now,” says Judd. “We can think about it for a little bit. The boys may know more than they’ve told us. I don’t think they’re holding back—they just might have overlooked something that could be important. Let’s stay on their better sides as long as we can manage.”
“We’ll take them to where they found Teddy’s things,” says Zoey. “See if the stuff’s still there. And I’ll talk to them about the stolen bike and tell them to stay clear of Braedon and Daniel. Then we’ll drop them at their homes and I’ll talk to their parents and tell them that, for now, the boys are cooperating with our investigation. I won’t go into more details. Hopefully, those three boys will feel indebted to us and who knows, like Judd said, maybe help us out down the line.”
“Clay,” says Judd, “you want to take home the Becker boy? Talk to Steph personally?” Zoey throws an inquisitive glance at Judd. “Clay knows her pretty well. They dated in high school. Now he gets his hair done at her beauty parlor.”
Zoey turns toward Clay. “Nails, too?”
Clay offers Zoey a flat, “Fingers and toes.” He then turns to his father and says, “Zoey should talk to all the parents. Including Thomas’s. Better that they hear it from a uniform.”
“You sure?” says Zoey. “I don’t want to douse the flames of a rekindling romance.”
“I’m sure,” says Clay. “And there is no rekindling romance.I think Steph may have found a new beau already. And by beau, I mean boy. I saw them looking at each other at Knut’s.”
“As long as he’s over eighteen,” says Zoey, “that’s none of my business. Okay if we take your truck, Clay? It won’t help matters if they’re seen being dropped off in a squad car.”
Miller’s Bluff was also named after the bigamist Leon Miller. Since Liar’s Creek flows right by it, the townspeople thought it appropriate to use another meaning of the wordbluffto further disparage Leon Miller’s lack of veracity. A small park sits at the base of Miller’s Bluff. It has a basketball court, horseshoe pit, picnic tables, and three built-in grills. Liar’s Creek runs along the base of the bluff, crossable over an arched wooden bridge for foot and bike traffic only. The bridge provides access to two trailheads, one for hikers and one for mountain bikers. It’s a beautiful bluff unless you make it to the top where you’re greeted by a cell phone tower and defunct power line.
Graham leads them up the bike trailhead on foot. Markey and Thomas follow close behind, and two steps behind trudge Clay, Judd, and Zoey. It’s about a fifteen-minute hike up to the spot where the boys found Teddy.
“It’s gone,” says Graham. “It was right here.”
“You sure this is the spot?” says Judd.
“Positive,” says Graham. “The stuff was right on that area of small stones. That’s where I knelt down to pick up the earring.”
Judd lowers himself to the ground and, on his hands and knees, looks closely at a bed of small stones that were mostlikely helped down the bluff by recent rains. “Don’t see any blood,” says Judd. “Or anything else.”
Now Clay is down next to him. He crawls around the stones and goes up the hill.
“Careful,” says Zoey. “I’ll order a forensics team from Rochester. Have them comb through it for hair and fibers.”
“There are broken branches up here,” says Clay. “Teddy could have fallen through this area and landed on the rocks. Somehow shed the hoodie and earring…” Clay shakes his head. Again he turns to the boys and says, “Are you sure there wasn’t anything other than the things you found?”
“Like what?”
“Like a beer can,” says Judd. “Maybe a whiskey bottle?”
“No,” says Graham. “We didn’t find anything like that.”
“Well,” says Zoey, “if Teddy came to and walked down the bike path, his footprints could have been erased by bike tires. This trail gets a lot of use this time of year.”
Judd looks at his watch and says, “Hardware store should be open. Let’s go see if we can identify that saw and get you boys home.”
Braedon opens his eyes and looks at the digital clock on the nightstand. It’s 8:14AM. Something smells delicious. He slips out from underneath the quilt, puts his feet on the floor, and stands. Clay told him this room hasn’t changed one bit since Clay was Braedon’s age. Sue and Carol call it the Map Room because framed maps cover the walls. Maps of where, Braedon isn’t sure. They’re old. Not Middle-earth old, but old.
He slept in his clothes, which at twelve is more of a treat than uncomfortable, so he pads out of the room in stocking feet, descends the stairs, and follows his nose into the kitchen.
“Hey!” says Sue. “There he is. What’ll it be for breakfast, young man?”
