“That’s hard to believe,” I mutter with dissatisfaction, remembering Jackie’s story of having to hide from Becky’s dad. “How about Jackie’s teacher? He really seemed to have it out for her.”

  “He was an asshole, but he was questioned…had an air-tight alibi.”

  It seems with every one of Jackie’s memories I tap into, another one reappears. I remember feeling the icy bitterness of the autumn air as she biked away from J.R.’s house, and the scrape of her hands on concrete when she fell.

  “You can talk to me in confidence,” the pastor had told her on that cold autumn night. “No one would have to know.”

  I run my hands up and down my arms, unsettled. “What about the Lutheran pastor?”

  Theo flinches and stands a little taller. “What about him?”

  “He gave you the creeps, right? He offered Jackie a ride on her way home after she left your house to check on you—just a few hours before you met her at the park to say goodbye. She turned him down because she sensed something was off. Was he ever considered as a suspect?”

  “Not that I know of.” His eyes blink rapidly. “Shit. We’ll have to ask my old man…not that I’m dying to reach out to the prick. But you could be onto something. They probably didn’t know she’d interacted with him that night.”

  The details of Jackie’s visit to J.R. return in vivid detail…how she noticed red marks around his neck, the way his voice strained with every word he spoke. Jackie was terrified of his father, especially after seeing the sociopath pretend to be one of the good guys at the assembly. With the onset of a bone-breaking chill, I wind my arms around my middle. “What about your father? Do you think—”

  “I’d considered it,” he admits with a single nod. “But he was far too invested in the investigation. I saw it eating away at him. I think his frustration over not finding a viable lead was the reason I became more and more of a punching bag. I’m the only one he ever wanted to torture. Besides, we were still living in Ohio when the first girl and Becky were abducted.”

  The painful knot forming in my throat refuses to go down no matter how many times I swallow. “What did he do to you after Diane made you call him?”

  Theo recoils with the force of a punch. “Jesus, Sterling!”

  “Tell me what happened,” I whisper, stepping in to stroke his arms with my fingertips.

  Cursing under his breath, he breaks our eye contact and lifts his chin. “Things a man should never do to his son. Son of a bitch choked me, broke my ribs. Said I’d embarrassed him in front of everyone at the station. It’s the first time I considered he might actually kill me.”

  “Theo…” I whimper. Overwhelming desperation and heartbreak make it difficult to breathe. As badly as I want to hug him, I sense something animalistic in the sudden flash of his dark eyes that stops me in my tracks. The strong scent of grass fills my lungs with my next breath. “You told Jackie you were taking a train to get out of town that night, but you told me you didn’t run away until you were seventeen.”

  His shoulders coil with tension. “After she left the park, I went to her trailer and waited for her to return. I eventually convinced Diane to call the police, even though she didn’t seem to want to at first. I had to stick around…had to help them find her. Her mom and Diane weren’t of any use.” He grips the back of his head with both hands, neck strained. “My old man discovered her mom had gotten involved in hardcore drugs shortly before Jackie went missing. On the one year anniversary of Jackie’s disappearance, Rose OD’d. Diane mentally checked out after that, spent part of her junior year in a psych ward. I was all Jackie had left, so I couldn’t leave. I returned to Minneopa park every single day for years, thinking she’d return to me.”

  I briefly close my eyes, squeezing a rush of tears out through my lashes. Jackie was convinced no one cared about her, yet her disappearance had destroyed her family and broken the heart of the boy she loved. The reality is almost more than I can handle. “You put up with your dad’s abuse for three more years…for Jackie.”

  When I open my eyes again, he’s watching me with a tender look. “It wasn’t always bad. Once it was clear they weren’t getting any closer to finding the girls, my old man took on other cases around the country. Sometimes he’d leave me alone in Mankato for weeks at a time. Those were some of my best days as a kid. At least then I was untouchable.” He drops his grip on his neck and begins to rub the deep scar running through one of his eyebrows. “I tolerated him until the end of my junior year when he chucked a ceramic plate at me, took a chunk out of my nose and cut my head open. The ER doctor said I was lucky I didn’t lose my eye. She suspected something was off, told me she wanted to help. I decided I’d finally had enough and took her up on the offer. She found a way to reach out to my great aunt in Seattle. Virginia took me in without hesitation—booked me a flight minutes after I called. She knew about my father’s abusive ways, but had feared what he’d do if she’d tried to intervene.” His gaze glistens as it holds mine. “By then I knew Jackie wasn’t coming back anyway.”

  “Oh, Theo,” I whisper, unable to resist touching him any longer. I frame his warm jaw in my hands, holding his tormented stare. “I’m so sorry they didn’t find her. It isn’t fair. For you or Jackie.”

  He drops his forehead against mine. “Why is this happening? How did you end up here…with me?”

  “I wish I could tell you. It’s freaking me out just as much that my dreams are based on actual events.”

  A set of his fat tears pool against my fingers. “It’s my fault Jackie went missing.”

  Violent jolts of sadness and empathy nearly bring me to my knees. “What?” I tighten my grip on his face. “Why would you think that?”

  “She broke curfew to come meet me that night.” His eyes squeeze shut, forcing more tears to spill. “After we fought, she took off by herself. If I had let her run away with me like she wanted, or chased after her…”

  On a gasp, I wrap him in my arms, nudging him down so I can press my lips against his cheek. In this moment, my feelings for him are more certain than ever. Without question, I love him. Not only for who he is, but for all he’s been through. I love him for being a survivor. I love him for enduring his father’s abuse all those years because he wanted to help Jackie. I love him for never letting his friend disappear from his heart.

  “There’s no way of knowing whether or not it would’ve gone any differently,” I say, stroking a hand through his damp hair when he leans this head against my shoulder. “There’s no sense in blaming yourself. That night was fated to go down that way, whether you’d told her to meet you that night or not.”

  Maybe it’s like Aristotle believed, that all events in a person’s life occur as a necessity.

  I sense he’s trying to keep it together, but his body trembles inside my arms. I continue to run my fingers through his hair, stopping every few seconds to drop kisses against his temple. After a few precious moments of silence, I tell him, “I know this is going to sound a bit strange, but my mom’s best friend is a well-respected psychic. Constantine spent the better part of a year in India, studying different religions that believe in this kind of thing. Maybe she can somehow enlighten us. I don’t necessarily believe in everything she does, even though there are times when she knows things she shouldn’t, but I’m also desperate for someone to explain why this is happening to us. Maybe she can help me dig a little deeper into what happened to Jackie that night. Maybe we can somehow find justice for all of them.” I squeeze him a little tighter and whisper, “Maybe she’ll know something that explains how I found my way to you.”

  18

  STERLING - 2018

  Theo sucks down a glass of whiskey for breakfast while I call my aunt Constantine in California on speaker mode. She’s full of questions, but doesn’t offer much by way of explanation. Theo quietly listens in from his roost at his island, occasionally shaking his head and topping off his glass. He hasn’t said much of anything since he cried in my arms, other than to offer to pour me a glass of whiskey too. At least he hasn’t asked me to leave the way I’d feared.

  Once I’m done telling my aunt everything, she’s quiet for a long stretch. I worry the call was dropped until she asks, “How soon can you two come to California?”

  “Aunt Connie, we can’t,” I say, meeting Theo’s gaze. “Theo and I have to work on Monday.”

  “It wouldn’t be necessary to stay any longer than the weekend,” she says. “Have your mom book you a private charter today. You could be back in Minnesota by tomorrow night. I merely need to see you both in person to feel your energy, read your Tarot cards. Anyone who claims they can do that by video call is full of shit. It’ll assist me in revealing who each of you were and are, who you are to become. It will aid us in putting your story into greater context, Sterling. You want answers? That’s the only way I can give them to you.”

  “We’ll have to discuss it and get back to you,” I tell her.

  “I know I’ll hear back from you soon,” she replies smartly. The double tone from my phone indicates the call has ended.

  I grip the island and drop my head while taking a step back, inhaling deeply. The mention of “feeling my energy” and reading Tarot cards makes me second guess the decision to confide in my unconventional aunt. Yet I don’t personally know of another living soul who would entertain our situation, or deduce we’re anything other than delusional.

  “I don’t know what else we can do,” I say, lifting my head to eye Theo. “This all sounds crazy, but then again, so are my dreams. What do you think?”

  “What the hell,” he grumbles. His voice is quiet enough that I suspect he’s speaking to himself. Then he gulps back the remainder of the liquid in his glass and slams down the empty tumbler on the island, meeting my questioning stare. “Let’s do it.”

  Several minutes after we climb into the black town car my mom sent to meet the private jet once it landed in L.A., Theo finally looks at me in the affectionate way I’d become accustomed to before he learned I’ve been dreaming of him as a boy. We haven’t engaged in any meaningful conversation since packing an overnight bag and hightailing it to the airport in Mankato for an 11 a.m. flight.

  Nudging my hand out from beneath my leg, he interlaces our fingers. “I’ve been mulling over things since we left. Sounds insane, but I’m staring to believe Jackie brought you and me together. Wanted to apologize for the asshole way I reacted when you first told me about your dreams. It must be a lot for you to wrap your brain around, too. You’re probably even a little scared.” His fingers tighten over mine. “You’re the only person other than a friend of Jackie’s sister who’s offered to help me find answers. Karrie stayed in Kato long after I left. She could’ve afforded to move out of the trailer park by then, but she didn’t in case Jackie returned. She was finally forced to leave when it was demolished in the early two thousands. Another ten years went by before she decided she couldn’t deal with with the botched search for Jackie and the others any longer. She took the money she’d saved, opened her dream business in a suburb up by St. Paul.”

  A puzzle piece clicks into place, the figurative sound of it deafening to my ears. “She opened a tattoo parlor,” I whisper. “In White Bear Lake.”

  I can't believe I didn’t make the connection earlier. K.C. is Karrie—Jackie’s fierce neighbor with Joan Jett’s hairstyle who was always sneaking J.R. and the sisters into her places of employment.

  Theo smooths his other hand over his forehead as if trying to absorb the lengths of my psychic knowledge. “Holy shit, Sterling. How—”

  “Remember when I told you about Beth, the bartender from Pub 500 that I’ve been meeting for drinks? I asked her if she knew anything about the missing girls. She mentioned her friend, K.C., had known one of the girl’s family. I didn’t say anything to you because you’d gotten so upset when I first mentioned the subject. I did a little research on my own and discovered K.C. was the one who’d tattooed the angel on your back."

  He laughs in a stilted way that hints he’s relieved to hear no superpowers were involved in my deduction. Pulling his hand from mine, he tangles his fingers inside my loose waves at the base of my neck. “Sounds like you could give my old man a run for his money.”

  “It’s not quite as innocent as it sounds,” I sheepishly admit, wishing I had a better poker face when it begins to heat. “I feared K.C. was the one who broke your heart, the one who made it hard for you to enjoy life and stop tormenting yourself. So I called in sick to work yesterday and made an appointment to get a tattoo with her.”

  His eyebrows shoot upward. “You went to White Bear Lake yesterday?”

  “I had to know whether or not there was a danger you’d leave me for her.”

  A small smirk toys at his lips. “I’m assuming you got your answer?”

  “Not really. She wouldn’t tell me anything, said your secrets weren’t hers to share.” My eyes flicker to the buttons on his white shirt as I’m overwhelmed with shame. “When she realized I wasn’t actually there to get a tattoo, she basically kicked me out. She told me she’d be willing to talk to me again once she ‘cooled down’.”

  He laughs in a rolling sound. “That sounds like Karrie.” Yanking me close, he slides my leg over his lap and lifts my hips so I’m straddling him. “Sweetheart,” he begins, his voice husky, “let me clue you in on a little secret. Karrie, or K.C. as she prefers now, is not my type, and I’m sure as hell not hers. You, on the other hand…”

  My mouth lags open. “But…but…there’s a picture on her Instagram of her and a really hot guy. They looked really into each other.”

  “That’s probably Travis, her business partner. They have a weird relationship. He’s the only guy I’ve ever seen her flirt with.” He bends for a moment, brushing his lips over mine. “It’s hot to hear you were jealous enough to drive four hours to size up what you thought was your competition.”

  “I figured she was old enough that I could’ve easily taken her in a cat fight,” I tease. “Lucky for her, she ended up being pretty chill.” Smirking, I slip my fingers through the longer locks on the top of his head. “What about the woman who cut your hair? Do I have to pay her a visit next?”

  A chuckle rumbles against his throat. “You’re jealous of my neighbor, Vicky? She’s more like a mother to me.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s out of the picture,” I tease, grinning while slipping open one of the buttons on his shirt. “You seem to thrive on dating someone with a considerable age gap.”

  “You pursued me, sweetheart.”

  Gazing into his beautifully deep eyes and finding the ghost of the boy who has pined for his missing friend all these years, I run my bottom lip through my teeth. “You’re an amazing man, Theo. It must be the reason I’m falling so hard, so fast. I wanted to get a sense for your relationship with K.C. because I didn’t figure there was any sense in both of us walking away with shattered hearts.”

  “I know what you mean about the falling thing,” he admits, stroking a finger along my cheek.

  A whirlwind of emotions takes flight inside my belly. There was no question he’d felt a strong attraction toward me, but I had assumed he regarded it as a bit of temporary fun to pass the time. With tears burning behind my eyes, I comb my fingers through his hair. “Wanna know what I was thinking during the flight? I know this is going to sound a little cheesy, but I can’t help wondering if fate brought me to you. And if it wasn’t fate, then maybe it was Jackie. Maybe she was tired of watching you torture yourself, so she sent me.”

  “You’re saying you believe in ghosts?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admit. “I remember once hearing a theory that someone with a violent past might linger in the afterlife due to unfinished business.”

  His eyes flash to the window, watching thoughtfully as the industrial L.A. landscape rushes past. “I told you I figured she was dead by now, but that’s not totally true.” Exhaustion settles in the depths of his dark gaze. “She’s been missing thirty-two years. In that time, I’ve come up with every scenario imaginable. The one I clung to is that someone took her, and she developed Stockholm syndrome. I wanted to believe she carried on to live an otherwise normal life.” His eyes fall shut. “But deep down, I know better. Probably the reason I asked K.C. to tattoo that angel—wanted to feel pain…wanted to believe she’d gone on to somewhere better where she’s being watched over.”

  Swallowing the lump rising in my throat, I smooth my thumbs over his cheeks. I’ve never experienced such a vast spectrum of emotions in such a short period of time. If there was any way I could ease even a minuscule amount of his sorrow, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I suppose that’s the main reason I’m so eager to find justice for Jackie. “I think after thirty-two years, there’s a good chance she’s gone, Theo.”

  “Without a body…” he muses, forcing out a harsh sigh. “Until then, I refuse to believe there isn’t some other kind of explanation.”

  “She loved you,” I blurt, wanting to give him a shred of happiness. “She was hurt that you seemed sweet on her sister and that you waited to kiss her until you were getting ready to leave, but she still loved you more than anyone who’d ever been a part of her life.”

  His mouth becomes a hard line. “I know we’ve been through this already, but how could you possibly know how she felt about the kiss, or that she loved me?”

  “It’s hard to describe. In my dreams, I feel her every emotion…like it’s happening to me in real time.” I draw my attention to the tinted window. “It’s almost like I am—

  My heart thuds to a stop.

  She’s been gone 32 years.

  I was born the same year Jackie died.

  What if—

  “You are what?” he prods.

  Her, I think to myself, unable to utter the word aloud.

  “Never mind,” I say, dropping a soft kiss against his lips. “Just know without question that you meant the world to her.” Glancing out the window, I maneuver down from his lap and sigh. “We’re almost there. You better prepare yourself. My aunt is even more of a handful than my mother.”