Secrets We Keep (Thistle Cove 1)

“A dating app?”

“SugarBabies. Where women match up with an older man for a sugar-daddy-style relationship. Rose had an account.”

Detective Jones stares at the screen for a long moment and rubs his chin. I tighten my grip on Ozzy’s hand. “How did you find this?”

“I uh, got into her ChattySnap account and fished around a little. The link was buried in her DMs. I wasn’t able to get on her actual SugarBabies account, but by making my own fake account I was able to see that she did have one up, Rosemary’s Baby.”

The Detective grimaces and returns the phone. “So you accessed it illegally.”

“Possibly.”

He sighs. “We’ll definitely look into it, any information at this point is helpful.”

“Has there been any other progress?”

He looks between the two of us, eyes narrowing. “You didn’t hear it from me, but we’ve got nothing solid. That girl simply vanished. No sign of her in the water. No movement on her phone or social media. It’s like one minute she was on that bridge and the next she was gone.” He snaps his fingers. “Poof. But what you just showed me? That may be the biggest break we’ve had yet.”

Ozzy doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk out of the station toward the car. It feels right. Just like how telling Detective Jones everything was the right move. Before we left, he told Ozzy to stay out of other people’s personal information, but it was clear he was grateful for the tip.

“Do you think this will help find her?” I ask Ozzy, once we’re back in the car.

“I don’t know,” he says, resting his hand on mine, “but I think it’ll at least answer some questions.”

I hope he’s right, I think, heading back to the school, but I’m afraid it may be the opposite; we may have just opened up Pandora’s box.

Thistle Cove is one of those small towns where Friday night football takes precedence over everything else. Shops close, main street looks like a ghost town, and families don their purple and gold spirit wear and head to the stadium.

Even a missing head cheerleader can’t stop the force of football.

I ride with my parents—they’ve gotten increasingly nervous about me being out alone. With Alice and I not on speaking terms at the moment, I didn’t have an excuse. I could have brought up Ozzy, but I’m not ready to have that discussion with my mother yet. Plus, he didn’t ask if I wanted to go.

“I talked to Regina today,” Mom says from the front seat. “Took her a casserole. She looks exhausted. This whole thing has been devastating.”

“I can’t imagine,” Dad says, his eye catching mine in the rearview mirror.

“She told me the police are doing their best, but even Brice’s influence only goes so far. They can’t find a girl that either doesn’t want to be found or something tragic has happened to.”

“Someone must know something,” My dad says. He’s been repeating that line for days. Someone must know something. Again, our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. “Any news at school?”

I shake my head. “No, nothing. Everyone’s just anxious about the game tonight.”

He pulls the car into the crowded stadium lot, and I make my escape as quickly as possible, giving my mom a hug and accepting the cash my dad slips into my hand for admission and food.

“Meet you back at the car when it’s over?” Mom says.

“I’ll text you if something comes up.”

“What would come up?”

I start to answer, and my dad says, “It’s her senior year. I know thin

gs are a little different right now, but post-football parties or eating down at the Waffle Hut after the game is still a thing.”

I give him an appreciative smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

The theme of the night is recognizable even before I get in the actual stadium. The cheer squad is handing out rose-colored ribbons and wearing rose-colored bows and socks in honor of their missing leader. Juliette, who’s walked around the school crying all day, is front and center, letting everyone know that she’s here for her missing best friend. Campaign banners hang from the fence near the entrance. They’re new and no longer the simple logo Mr. Waller has used for the last several years. Now it’s a bright photo of his family, Rose in the center.

“Wow,” I mutter, already knowing this is going to be over the top. Alice would hate it, and I miss having her to snark to as I try to process everything going on. I know there’s supposed to be an announcement at the beginning of the game and some kind of special half-time presentation. I’m trying to figure out if I can handle all of this when a hand touches my lower back.