Her pulse quickened. That meant David had crossed the border—at least with the car. Someone, maybe him, had driven it into Canada. But the trail went cold after 1987, when the registration lapsed. Who drove it back? And how did it wind up in government storage decades later?
The questions stacked higher. Yet for the first time, Margaret felt she was closing the distance between present and past. David had made it farther than anyone believed. He hadn’t vanished into thin air. He’d kept going, left traces, however faint. And she intended to follow them.