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But something more ominous concerned me. If Geneva told me she trusted me, why wasn’t she returning my calls?

“Of course,” Landon said. “I’m gonna go check on my dad. He’s due for some meds pretty soon.”

That’s how I found myself alone in Geneva Bell’s bedroom. Her bed wasn’t made. But Landon said she hadn’t slept in it last night. I didn’t always make my bed either. No one but me ever went to the second floor anymore.

Dan Holland’s words thundered through me. You don’t know what you think you know.

I slid open Geneva’s closet door. She didn’t have many clothes hanging there, but that didn’t surprise me. She told me she’d put a lot in storage. She didn’t know for sure how long she’d have to stay in Helene.

I peered further in and saw the shadow of something large. I reached for it and pulled out a giant orange suitcase, just like Landon described.

It didn’t have to mean anything bad. If Geneva decided to get away for a weekend, she wouldn’t need to pack a lot. I didn’t see anything resembling a weekender bag like Landon described.

I opened a few drawers. Geneva had all the normal things. Underwear, socks. One drawer had all her makeup in it. Would she have left all of it if she planned to just disappear again like Landon described the last time?

I found a photograph on her dresser, stuck into the corner of the mirror. It stopped me cold. It was old. Geneva sat on a log with five other girls. I recognized them instantly from the news articles of the time, and those awful crime scene photos.

Geneva sat on the far left. Next to her, in order, were Annabelle Oleson, Maisy Adams, Emily Reynolds, and Sarah Duran. Beside Sarah had to be Zoe Oleson. She was a carbon copy of Annabelle, save for the shorter length of her hair.

The photo was clearly taken in the summer. All the girls wore bathing suit tops with shorts or cover-ups. It meant at most, this was snapped no more than weeks before Deadwater Lake.

I looked more closely at Zoe. I hadn’t realized she was sometimes part of the group. It stood to reason. I never asked her why she wasn’t staying at the cabin herself that weekend. Was she invited? I ran my thumb over Zoe’s face. She had a similar attitude about Geneva as Dan Holland did.

Again I wondered, what was in Dan’s personal notes that he didn’t want me to see?

I took my phone out and laid the photo flat on the dresser. I snapped a picture of it. I don’t know why. I heard muffled voices coming from further down the hall toward Kevin’s room. I walked out into the hallway.

I didn’t want to face Kevin. Not because I was scared of him, I just didn’t have the energy for another confrontation.

“I know!” I heard Landon shout. “Dammit, Dad. I’m trying to help you. I can’t do two things at once, okay?”

A moment later, Landon came out and closed his father’s bedroom door behind him. His face softened when he saw me. “Sorry,” he said. “He’s extra cranky today. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve got to go make some calls and straighten out a problem with the pharmacy over his meds. I’ll just be down the hall.”

“I can show myself out,” I said.

“Will you please let me know if Geneva reaches out to you first?” he asked. “I’m worried. Do you think …?”

“I don’t know,” I answered. “But to be safe, I think we should let the sheriff know what’s going on. That we can’t find her.”

Landon dropped his chin to his chest. “This can’t be happening again. She can’t leave me now. I can’t do this by myself.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I told him.

Landon gave me a pleading look, then his father called for him again. Landon turned and hurried down the hall to do his bidding. I stood at the front door.

I turned back toward Kevin Bell’s room. Would he talk to me? If I told him my concerns about his daughter, would he understand that I wasn’t his enemy?

“Where are you, Geneva?” I whispered.

I went to the foyer. Hesitating, I pulled out my phone to check one last time. But there were no messages from Geneva. Rubbing my temples, I sent her another text. A moment later, I heard something buzzing to my right. Behind me, an open stairwell led down to the basement.

My text showed as delivered.

Taking a step toward the stairs, I texted Geneva again. I heard another distant, rhythmic hum. A vibration. Looking back down the hall toward the primary bedroom, I saw the door was still shut. There were muffled voices coming from Kevin’s room.

I took a chance and went downstairs. Standing in the middle of the drafty basement, I tried to call Geneva. The room stayed silent. I sent another text.

The vibration came from an L-shaped couch facing a giant wall-mounted flat screen. One paneled wall was lined with a built-in bookshelf. A small home office took up the other half of the basement. I saw two doors down a short hallway.