“Denise, when did you last see Nathan?”
“Early August, I think. What about Cole?”
“Same.”
Eight weekends. From early August through late September, they’d both deceived us.
With Denise still on the line, I called Nathan twice. Both calls went to voicemail.
“Cole’s not answering either!” Denise cried.
I checked Nathan’s latest message.
“Mom, Cole and I ordered pizza. Don’t wait up. Love you.”
My fingers trembled as I sent another text.
“Nathan, I know you’re not at Cole’s. Call me now.”
The message was delivered, but nobody opened it.
“Laura, what if something happened to them?”
“Come over,” I said. “We’re finding them tonight.”
Twenty minutes later, Denise arrived. Together, we contacted the boys’ friends and checked everywhere they normally spent time. Not one person had seen either of them.
Searching Nathan’s bedroom, I discovered a store receipt tucked beneath his desk lamp. It listed sandpaper, wood glue, and paintbrushes. The purchases reminded me of a conversation we’d had three weeks before.
