Cornwall’s big, dark eyes fastened on his and he felt a sudden rage against Mike Bains for hurting her.

“As far as you know, was the relationship between Bains and Sophie a serious one?”

“I already told you, Sophie didn’t have any serious hookups in senior year. Certainly none that lasted.”

“What about Kelly Quantz? Anything between them back then?”

“Maybe he was the older man she was seeing, if there was one. Kelly is at least ten years older than Sophie. But there was no sign of it on grad night that I can remember. What did Bernie have to say?”

“In a minute. What about Fang Davidson? Did he harbour any resentment when Sophie broke up with him?”

“Who knows. Sophie was a slut back then. Everyone was surprised when she went to Divinity College, and even more surprised that she came back to the scene of her sinful past.”

Neil replaced the yearbook with the one containing pictures of the grad party. “Let’s go over these photos. Maybe something will come back to you if you talk about them.”

“I kind of doubt it, Redfern. After that night I swore off the hard stuff, and only drank an occasional glass of wine in university. Blackouts are a warning that one should limit one’s alcohol intake.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that. Just tell me who these people are and what they’re doing. And don’t speculate.”

She pointed to the first picture. “The Weasel sucking up to Mr. Archman. Did I mention the Weasel was the high school valedictorian that year and spent a lot of time sucking up to everyone except his classmates? He showed nothing but contempt for us, and that should have been a warning to me, but I was too dumb to see it.”

“Ancient history, Cornwall. He was never good enough for you. Let’s move on.”

“Next one: Fang and Chico either lowering or raising the disco ball.” She looked up. “Is the ball still in the auditorium?”

“Still there, as well as the garbage nobody cleaned up.”

“Yeah, well, that was supposed to be the last duty of the decorating committee. Chico, Fang, and I were told to come in early the next morning and remove all that stuff and pile it behind the new high school. Plus, bag up the garbage and throw it into the Dumpster behind the gym. By the time I remembered that, I was back at university the following Tuesday and didn’t give a shit. It’s not like the school board could revoke my diploma.”

“You’re a rebel, Cornwall. Who’s Chico, by the way?”

“Charles Leeds. He manages the Canadian Tire store in town.”

“And would Faith Davidson be Fang’s sister?”

“His twin sister, yes.”

Cornwall had started wearing eye makeup, making her eyes seem even bigger and darker. With sweatshirt and jeans, she looked like Cleopatra on casual Friday. She aimed those eyes at him now. “Those bones in the locker are Faith’s.”

Neil looked at Faith’s picture. Long dark hair, slight build, perfect smile. Perfect teeth. “About the phone call, Cornwall. Bernie says that Faith Davidson was reported missing by her parents two weeks after your party at the high school.”

She stood up and walked away. When she came back, she held a glass of water which she drank in one long swallow. “I knew that Faith was missing. I heard it from my parents when I came home for Christmas. I thought about her for a long time, wondering what had happened to her. We had been friends at school. But then life happened. I forgot about her. Everyone said she disappeared in Toronto where she was staying with an aunt and going to college. I can’t remember which one. But the skeleton has to be Faith.”

Neil said, “Until a few years ago, Dogtown was under the jurisdiction of the Owen Sound Police Service. They initiated the missing person report. A few years later, there was some sort of boundary re-alignment and now Dogtown is part of Lockport.”

“Oh, sure. They even tried to amalgamate us with Blackshore to the north of us, and everything in between, and call us something else. We just ignored it.”

“The Davidsons reported Faith’s disappearance to the Owen Sound force. We’ll have a bulletin somewhere, but the investigation file is lean. Bernie obtained a copy of the report from Owen Sound and read me the highlights. We can’t be sure at this time that we’ve located Faith Davidson, but it appears she was never seen after grad night.”

Cornwall stared at the pictures in front of her. “Here’s Faith. Standing off to the side … alone, as usual. I think she was the only one who wasn’t drinking.” She looked up. “She just came back from Toronto for the evening and was taking the late bus back to the city. Did she get on that bus?”

“A witness saw a young woman waiting at the Greyhound bus stop in front of the Petro station about twelve-thirty. She was wearing a white dress. The bus driver couldn’t confirm he picked anyone up at that stop on his way through Lockport. Not after two weeks. They didn’t have electronic tickets back then. So we don’t know if the young woman was Faith. If it was, she got on the bus and disappeared in Toronto.”

“Faith’s graduation dress was bright yellow. Like a buttercup. And she wouldn’t have worn it on the bus. She would have changed into jeans and a jacket. I guess we know she disappeared right here. She never left the building that night.”

“We can’t be sure yet, Cornwall. Were you good friends with Faith?”

“Yeah. We hung around at school. Me and Faith, Fang, Chico … a few others I haven’t seen in years.”

During his time on the Toronto force, Neil knew of many people who slipped off the radar and were never heard from again. There were just too many places to hide, or hide a body. He thought a small town might be different, but he should have known better. Big city, small town, it was all the same. And poor communications were a major cause of screw-ups between police jurisdictions.

He stuffed his tie in his pocket and put on his belt. “Why don’t you throw a few things in a bag and come home with me for the night, Cornwall? I’ll bring you back first thing in the morning.”

A faint smile appeared, then vanished. “It’s pretty stormy out there. Maybe you should close the highway and just hunker down here for the night.”

“The OPP decides when to close the highway. I have a full day of interviewing ahead of me and I’ll need a fresh uniform. How about it? I don’t want to leave you here alone in case the power goes out.”

“If that happens, I’ll pull a blanket in here and sleep in front of the gas fireplace. I won’t freeze, or starve, but thanks.”

He leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss. Maybe he could run home in the morning to change. Spending the night in Bliss Moonbeam Cornwall’s bed was far more enticing than returning to his cold cabin in the bush and sleeping alone.

Before he could change his mind, he stepped out into the storm. The snow had turned to sleet that cut into his face as he scraped the ice from his windshield. He sat in the driveway for a few minutes to let the inside of the windows defrost. Fuck. Bruce County in the winter had to be the shittiest spot on the planet. The sun didn’t shine for days, and the snow came at you sideways — try driving in that without your stomach heaving.

He restrained himself from charging back into the house, throwing Cornwall over his shoulder, and dragging her back to his cabin. She’d kick him in the head, call him an asshole, and never speak to him again.

He knew why she didn’t want to spend the night at his place, and it was his fault, no doubt about that. But he didn’t know what to do about it. He backed out of the driveway and drove cautiously out of the subdivision toward the highway — which may very well be closed by morning if this weather kept up.

The sound of a revving motorcycle filled his vehicle: Cornwall’s ringtone. He touched the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel. “Have you changed your mind? I’ll come back for you …”