Owen’s “backyard” is mostly forest. By the time we’re at the tree line, we’re less than twenty feet from the house.

“We’ve seen the front from the road,” I say. “We saw the east side as we were coming through the field, and now we’re looking at the back. The house is dark. If you insist on checking the west side, we’ll do that.”

Naturally, Jesse insists. We walk as far in that direction as we can without leaving the cover of the forest.

“No car, no lights, no Owen,” I say.

Jesse doesn’t answer.

“If this really bugs you, we’ll leave,” I say.

“I just…I don’t like it.”

“You think it’s a trap?” Chris says.

Jesse considers, and then shakes his head. “No one led us here. We figured it out on our own. Just stick together. If we see Owen—or anyone other than Tiffany—we’re leaving, okay?”

“Agreed.”

The moon is bright enough to lead the way. We’re halfway to the back door when Jesse catches my arm. He’s gone still as he squints at the house.

“You spotted something?” I whisper.

“A flicker of light. You didn’t?”

Chris and I both shake our heads. I lean in to whisper, “If you really don’t like this…”

He exhales. “I’m fine. I don’t mean to be so jumpy.” He rolls his shoulders and makes a face. “I just keep thinking about last night and…” His gaze falls to my arm.

“I know.”

He leans closer, voice lowering as he says, “Just don’t take off on me, okay? Please. I’m not trying to be a jerk.”

“I made a mistake at the park. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

When we reach the house, we duck and sneak up. I’m peering over a window ledge when I see a flash of light. I duck fast.

Jesse whispers, “Passing car.”

When I look again, I see that the window lines up with one in the front room, and through it I catch a glimpse of red taillights as a car passes.

“Must have been what I saw earlier,” Jesse whispers.

I peek again. The window opens into the living room, and I can see the dining area beyond it. Both rooms are dark.

“I’m going to boost you,” Jesse whispers.

He does, and I peer through at a better angle. There’s enough moonlight for me to make out furnishings. An old sofa. An armchair with books substituting for one leg. As my gaze travels to the dining room doorway, I notice a large dark stain on the carpet. The moonlight catches it, and it glistens, still wet.

“I think I see blood,” I whisper, and I try to get a better look. Jesse adjusts his grip and boosts me higher while Chris grabs the windowsill and hoists himself up to peer inside.

“Damn,” Chris whispers. “That does seem like blood. A lot of it.”

I’m about to tell Jesse to take a look when I notice something to the side of the wet patch. Just past the dining room doorway. Moonlight glints off an object on the floor.

A knife? I squint. It’s an odd shape. And there’s a second one like it a few inches away. Smaller pieces litter the linoleum and the carpet at the border between the rooms.

“Glass,” I murmur.

“What?” Chris says.

“It’s a broken tumbler,” I say. “The pieces are there. That’s what the stain’s from.”

“Oh, right. Now I see. It’s not blood, then. Just Coke or something.” Chris sounds disappointed.

Jesse lowers me to the ground. “So someone dropped a glass of liquid and left the whole mess—including the broken glass? I don’t care how bad a housekeeper—no one does that. It’s not safe, for one thing.”

“And it doesn’t seem like Owen is a bad housekeeper. The place is tidy otherwise.”

“Maybe some of it is blood,” Chris says. “Owen dropped a glass. Got cut. Took off to the hospital.”

Jesse says nothing. He climbs onto the back deck and creeps toward the door. As he peers through the window, I resist the urge to join him. Someone should stand guard, and Chris is already slipping off to the next window.

Jesse comes back off the deck and whispers, “Just a mudroom and a couple of closed doors.”

We follow Chris. He’s boosted himself up to check through the other rear window. When Jesse lifts me, I see an empty room. Through it is the kitchen.

We tackle the basement windows next, but they’re boarded up. There’s no way of getting up to the second floor. Even the trees are too far to climb.

“So we’ve got a broken tumbler,” I say. “That’s it.”

“But the house is empty,” Chris says. “If we can get in, we should look around. That broken glass means something.”

I say nothing. I agree, but I don’t want to make Jesse be the grown-up here. When I glance at Jesse, he’s eyeing the house, considering.

“You two go,” Chris says. “I’ve got guard duty.”

“Thank you,” I say. “Text us if you hear anything.”