Hold on. He opened that report and scanned it too. Same cause of death. There were no signs of struggle. The coroner stated it’s likely she died in her sleep. He thought of how upset Molly had been at the news of Rodriguez’s death, almost more upset than she had been about Austin. A sense of responsibility weighed heavily on her, so he added, She didn’t suffer any fear or pain.

Another long pause, then: Tough news, but I’m glad you told me. Thank you.

You’re welcome. He waited, but she didn’t text further, and he couldn’t think of how to maintain the connection, so he set his phone aside and got back to work.

Maria and Henry delivered the car just before noon. He alerted Molly, and fifteen minutes later she confirmed that she had driven the car back to the house.

A little after two in the afternoon, he received a memo stating the police had issued an APB for Molly, listing her as a person of interest in a murder investigation. Photos of her had been distributed to all the local television statements. She would be featured on the evening news.

So they had connected Nina Rodriguez to Molly and Austin Sullivan. That had only been a matter of time. He called the lead detective on the case for an update. Afterward, he texted Molly again. What size clothes do you wear?

This time it took her a few minutes to respond. Size eight, long in pants, 34B bra. I have about $60 in cash, and I still have money on some prepaid Visa cards. I thought I’d go to the country store to see if I could pick up some new clothes. Where is it?

Adrenaline kicked in. Goddamn it, she had keys and a vehicle at her disposal now. She could do anything. Go anywhere. She didn’t have to listen to what he said.

Rapidly, he sent back in all caps, DO NOT GO.

Silence stretched out long enough that he charged to his door to slam it shut, then he dialed her number. When she picked up, she sounded wary. “Hello?”

“You know it’s me,” he snapped.

“Of course,” she replied irritably. “But God forbid we actually talk on the phone anymore. You made it quite clear before that you’re very busy.”

“I am busy,” he growled. Striding to his window, he yanked at the confining tie at his neck. “But you didn’t respond to my latest text.”

“No, I didn’t.” Her voice turned cool. “I was still thinking about it. I don’t like somebody else dictating my actions. It was different when I was too hurt to go anywhere. The bruises on my face alone would have drawn attention, but I’m past that point now.”

“Or when you didn’t have a car and couldn’t?” he bit out.