“Then who is this man wearing Brandon’s coat?” I asked, looking up in complete confusion.

“We don’t know who he is,” Miller admitted solemnly.

Austin took a hesitant step toward me.

“The night of the crash, when I got near the service trail, I saw a man wearing Brandon’s jacket standing in the dark.

I naturally assumed it was Brandon because of the heavy storm and poor visibility.

But when I finally scrambled down into the ravine to check the truck, I noticed Brandon’s heavy jacket was missing from the front seat, where he usually kept it.”

I looked at Austin as a sudden realization washed over me.