Mitch’s response was flat. "At this point, I doubt we’ll find anything useful."
He demonstratively stepped back, fixing his gaze on the surrounding trees with exaggerated interest, as if they were far more fascinating.
To say I was annoyed was an understatement. Even though everything at this cemetery and around it pointed to Lucas, somehow, we still focused solely on Amanda. It seemed my loss mattered less because I was one, and June and Mitchell were two.
I carefully picked up the photographs, damp from the rain. Some were still in decent condition, especially those that weren’t on top. Heartfelt messages on the backs of some of them flickered in the dim light. And then I saw it. A photo of Lucas with Duane, similar to the one I’d seen at Lucas’s parents’ house. It was likely taken on the same trip, but with a different camera. The back read: "Sorry."
My heart, as if frozen until now, lurched to life with a jolting, painful beat as I came to realize what I was holding in my hands.
The handwriting on the photo wasn’t Lucas’s, which left only one other person who could have written this.
"We have to go back and talk to Duane," I said.
14
Chapter Fourteen
September, 2020
My declaration was unheard.
I turned to find Mitchell squatting by a tree, clearly intrigued, while Nick and June stood beside him.
"What’s that?" he pointed to a mark on the trunk. I approached, still clutching the photograph in my hand.
There was a small carving, not as intricate as the ones we’d seen in Amanda’s photo and not as heavy as Lucas’s drawing. It was a simple design—just a few lines and a circle—reminiscent of a child’s handiwork. The mark was so low to the ground, barely reaching knee level, that it seemed whoever made it was sitting down at the time.
"I think it’s a playground," Nick said, his finger tracing the carving. "The kid must have done it."
Mitch sprang to his feet, waves of anger radiating from him like palpable heat. His already tense posture stiffened further, his muscles corded with restraint. At first, I thought he was puzzled, but as the moments ticked by, his expression darkened. His face reddened with frustration. He struggled to unlock hisphone, entering the passcode incorrectly several times before swearing under his breath.
June approached him like he was a skittish horse about to buck. "Jeez, let me?—"
Stubbornly, he turned away from her and finally opened the phone’s camera app. After snapping a few pictures, Mitch turned to Nick and me.
"Do you think he knew about this?"
"Who?" I asked, startled.
"The cemetery guy!"
Nick and I exchanged a moment of confusion. June stepped in once again, as if used to such outbursts. "Hey, that guy is a moron. He’s probably never been here. Otherwise, he would have taken all this back to the cemetery or binned them."
She had a point: the treasures, collected and meticulously laid out on the stone by a child, were untouched.
"He’s a fucking liar. He saw Amanda."
Mitchell’s chest heaved, his face twisting into a harsh, bark-like scowl. He exploded into motion, his aggressive strides eating up the distance toward the cemetery.
June sprinted after him. "Mitch, wait!"
What was going on?
When we reached the cemetery, the sight stopped me cold. Mitchell had the caretaker by the shirt, his grip tight, shaking the man with enough force to make his knees buckle.
"You lied to us!" Mitch growled.
Gideon’s eyes widened in shock.