AT A FEW minutes to six the next morning, Seneca stood with the others at the locked front door of Island Time Café. A mild wind whipped her hair. She felt eyes on her back, but when she turned, the only people she saw were an elderly couple vigorously power walking on the path across the street that paralleled the ocean. Kate, the woman with a blond ponytail they’d met the first morning they’d arrived here, padded through the café’s front room, setting up for morning customers.

Seneca glanced again at the photo of Corey they’d found yesterday, standing next to Chelsea. Though the whole photo was blurry, Brianna’s intention had been to take a picture of herself and her friends, all holding up drinks in a toast; Corey had no idea he’d been captured in the background. They’d called Brianna about the picture, though they suspected she had no idea what she’d caught on camera. Trouble was, Brianna hadn’t yet called them back.

The guy in the photo was definitely Brett’s height, and though his hair was cut differently and she didn’t remember his face being so angular, this lined up with their theory that he had lost some weight. If she looked hard enough, she could almost see it.

As a large clock in the center square struck six, Kate leisurely strolled over and unlocked the door. “Hey,” she said sleepily to the group as she let them in. The room smelled like espresso beans, and the only sounds were the pop radio station turned on low and the burbling of the coffee percolator. Magazines were neatly fanned out on the low coffee table by two large orange couches, and the muffins behind the glass at the counter stood in perfect, even lines.

“What can I get for you?” Kate asked as she walked back behind the counter.

Seneca cleared her throat. “Actually, we’re here to ask about Corey Robinson.”

Something flickered across Kate’s face. She focused on a slip of paper by the register. “Corey doesn’t work here anymore.”

A jolt went through Seneca. “What?”

“He quit yesterday.” Kate pushed a register button, and the drawer shot open. Her voice was flat, guarded. “Just walked out.”

“Do you know why?” Aerin asked. “Or where he went?”

“He didn’t say. Sorry.” She shot them a tight smile.

Seneca sank into her hip. “He didn’t give you an excuse?”

Kate kept her eyes down. “He seemed to be in a hurry.”

“Where is he from?” Seneca was desperate for anything, even if it was one of Brett’s lies. Moments before, they’d felt so close.

“Delaware, I think.” Kate’s gaze was cold. “Did you guys want to order or what?”

Everyone looked at each other. Seneca tapped her lip, trying another tack. “Can you show me the application he filled out to work here?”

Something fluttered across Kate’s face, but it submerged quickly. “That’s private.”

“You can block out his social security number. All we’re looking for is the address he listed.”

“Uh, unless you’re the police, I don’t have to—”

“Look,” Aerin blurted. “Chelsea’s been missing for three days now. We think Corey might know something. Be a good person here.”

Kate’s gaze was steady and challenging, but not exactly surprised. “You mean he’s a suspect?” she demanded.

“Maybe,” Aerin said.

Kate put her hands on her hips. “Can I see some sort of proof?”

There was a brief stare-off, but then Aerin pulled out her phone and called up the picture on the feed. “See?” She pointed at Corey next to Chelsea. “This is right around the time Chelsea was last seen. They’re together.”

Kate glanced at it, but she seemed unimpressed. “I’m sorry. I can’t give out his address. If you aren’t going to order anything, you can’t be here.”

Seneca spun around and tramped out of the café. Everyone followed. Once they were on the sidewalk, she glared at Kate through the glass. “I think she’s hiding something.”

Maddox cocked his head. “Me too.”

Seneca nodded. “She looked freaked when we mentioned Corey’s name. What does she know?”

“If Corey is Brett, then maybe he charmed her—or manipulated her.” Madison lowered her voice as a jogging couple passed. “But maybe she senses there’s something off about him. Maybe she even has evidence…but she’s too afraid to talk.”

Maddox cleared his throat. “Maybe there’s another way we can get information. MizMaizie should be able to help.”

Seneca pinched the bridge of her nose. MizMaizie posted on CNC and, being a former Seattle cop, still had access to basic records like driver’s license information. She’d helped with Helena’s investigation, trying to figure out where Heath Ingram had disappeared to the winter after Helena vanished. Seneca scrolled through her phone for the number, sent MizMaizie a text, and was surprised when MizMaizie wrote back quickly. No Delaware driver’s license for Corey Robinson.

Seneca asked for her to check other states, but after another beat, the only Corey Robinsons that came up were much older, or of a different ethnicity, and one was female. Maddox frowned. “That’s weird.”

“Not really,” Seneca said. “He could be using an alias.”

“How could we figure out where he’s staying?” Aerin asked.

“We could call Gabriel,” Seneca suggested. “Maybe the realty company he works for rented his family his vacation house.” But then she looked at the time. It was 6:30. She doubted Gabriel was up yet.

Aerin raised empty palms to the group. “Now what?”

“I have an idea.” Madison pointed at a truck that had just rolled up to the curb. Peace, Love, and Donuts!, it read, featuring a smiling donut as its logo. A sleepy-looking worker wearing a Grateful Dead T-shirt slid out of the driver’s seat, ambled around to the back, and opened the doors to reveal boxes of freshly made pastries.

“Excuse me?” Madison strolled over. Her eyes twinkled, and she’d put on her most winning smile. Her head bent close to the guy, and after a moment, Seneca saw him nod, hand her his cap, and lift a box of food into her arms. He pointed to a back alley that ran behind the shops, and Madison started off.

Seneca caught her arm. “What are you doing?”

Madison grinned. “I told this guy I’d give him all my indica weed if he’d let me deliver the donuts to my friend inside. I’ll set the donuts on the counter and grab that application.”

“Madison, I don’t…” Seneca started, but Madison was already skipping off.

Seneca shifted nervously on the sidewalk, half expecting Madison to dart out of the café with Kate chasing after her. She glanced around, once more feeling the sensation that someone was watching them. A garbage truck lumbered down the road. A Jeep carrying surfboards passed. A few joggers galloped by, but no one even glanced in their direction.

Aerin tapped her foot impatiently. Maddox cleared his throat. “I wish we had a getaway car. If that Kate girl comes flying after my sister, Madison won’t be able to outrun her. Did you see the shoes she’s wearing?”

Seneca smirked. “You’ll have to carry her on your back.”

He scoffed. “Yeah right.”

She cocked her head. “But I thought runners were, like, the strongest athletes ever.” Maddox’s face reddened, and she nudged him. “Kidding.”

Madison strolled calmly from around the corner. She tossed the delivery guy his hat, popped an unidentifiable bundle in his pocket, and returned to the group, her cheeks pink with excitement.

“What happened?” Seneca whispered, hurrying over to her.

Madison held up her phone. She’d taken a photo of an open file cabinet with an application sticking out of a manila folder. Corey Robinson, it read on the top. And an address: 49 Ninety-First Street. Seneca looked at the street sign: They were on Ninety-Sixth. “This isn’t far.”

Maddox pivoted on the sidewalk. “Let’s go.”

“Are you crazy?” Seneca pulled on her sleeve. “We can’t just show up at his house. It’s six thirty in the morning, for one thing. And for another, if this is Brett, what are we going to do? Ring his doorbell, and…?” She trailed off, suddenly unable to speak. The idea of coming face-to-face with Brett made her shrink down in terror. They needed to think this through more. They needed a better plan.

Maddox turned from the curb. “If we don’t want to go there in person, we could check it out with my drone. See if he’s there. Make sure it is Brett.”

Madison gawked at him. “You didn’t bring it.”

“He did.” Aerin smirked. “It’s in our room.”

“Drones are nerdy and weird!” Madison hissed. “Only stalkers use them! We’re trying to keep a low profile, not draw attention to ourselves!”

“Actually, a drone isn’t a bad idea,” Seneca said. “Have you seen how many people are flying them on the beach? Brett won’t know which one is ours.” She smirked at him. “Let me guess. You’re amazing at flying it.”

Maddox grinned. “I didn’t play hours and hours of Top Gun on Xbox for nothing.”

They headed back to the B&B, though after some discussion, they decided to wait a few hours to fly it, when there would be more drones on the beach and Maddox’s would blend in. Finally, around eleven, Maddox pulled the box into the B&B’s driveway. He assembled the large, flat flying device, turned it on, pressed a few buttons on the remote, and the drone lifted into the air. He managed to fly the thing over the trees and houses without bumping it into a single branch. His features relaxed into something very intelligent, and admittedly very handsome, and Seneca felt an unexpected tingle. Maddox glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow. She gave him a thumbs-up.

Everyone stared at the iPad synced to the drone’s progress. Madison used a map on her phone to tell Maddox where to turn. Finally, the drone hovered over the address Corey had used on his application. There were no cars in the driveway, but there was a bike propped against the garage and a light on inside. Maddox flew the drone a little lower. “Watch it,” Madison hissed. “Don’t crash it into a window.”

They studied the screen on the iPad. The drone hovered across the street to get a view inside the front windows, but there weren’t any signs anyone was there—the TV wasn’t on, and there were no shadows moving behind the glass. The house was on a public street, too—Seneca doubted Brett was actually holding Chelsea hostage inside.

She leaned back on her heels, feeling frustrated. When her phone started to buzz in her back pocket, she almost ignored it. But then she pulled it out and gawked at the screen. “Look,” she whispered to the others. She’d received a new message on the CNC boards from BMoney60.

Hope to see you at the Bastille Day party. I’ve got a killer surprise for you….