“We see Earl’s suicide,” Izzy jumped in, “and assume he was the older guy involved with Monroe.”

“We conclude that he thought Twist was onto him,” Mia continued. “Logically, then, it would follow that Earl killed Twist, and both deaths, Twist’s and Monroe’s, weighed on him so much he swallowed a bottle of painkillers. That gives us a killer for both possible homicides, and a dead one to boot. Our jobs are done.”

“Case closed,” Izzy said softly. It was a tasty, easily digestible morsel all wrapped up in pretty paper.

“But what if . . . ?” Mia dragged her fingers through her hair, pushing it back into a low ponytail as she stared off at a point way beyond Izzy. “What if . . . ? What if it just looks that way.”

A setup. That’s what had struck Izzy as off about Twist’s murder as well. When you were a cop long enough, you learned how to smell a setup. And Mia was right. This whole case reeked.

I’m sorry. Forgive me.

The note, the pills, they told a clear story. But what if it just had the outer appearances of a suicide? “Just like with Twist.”

Mia nodded. “Earl did leave a note, though. Twist didn’t.”

“That’s easy enough to forge,” Izzy countered. What if they were both staged? And the person was getting smarter with each kill. Adding in a note this time to make sure it was clear. “It was typed.”

“All Earl’s notes to himself were handwritten,” Mia said, and, God, she was a genius sometimes.

“So someone is screwing with us.”

Mia held out her hand. “Hold up. We’re running too quickly with this theory. It’s just a thought.”

“But think about it. His death could be a cover for the real killer.” Izzy let the legs of the chair drop. “Loose ends all tied up.”

Their eyes met across the small room. Cases like this were always tough, but this one seemed particularly hard to wrap their arms around. Add in someone planting a narrative in their heads, and it would become nearly impossible to untangle.

They needed a place to start.

“What about Cash?” Izzy couldn’t shake the image of him, face reddened, veins popped, teeth bared, holding Mia up on her toes. “He seems like he has anger issues.”

“You’re not seeing him like most people do,” Mia said.

“I think I’m seeing him a bit more clearly than most people do,” Izzy countered. “He was about two seconds from taking your head off this morning. And not for nothing, but we both saw Lacey’s bruises.”

Mia shook her head but said, “I know.”

“So why would Monroe go to Cash about the baby? It wasn’t . . .” Izzy didn’t want to ask the question, but she had to. Mia saved her from having to put it into words.