“I’m sorry for your loss, by the way,” Lindsay said. Reminding herself that Jocelyn did not yet appear to know about the police announcement, she quickly added, “You told me on the phone that Alex passed away. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Two weeks ago, a few days before I filed the police report. I found his truck last week in the lot in Montauk. I had a moment of hope thinking I’d find him, too . . .” She choked back a sob.

“What makes you think there’s a connection between my friend and Alex? Because she was asking about your relationship?”

“Nope. Because when the cops told me he was shot in the head, they showed me this exact picture.” Lindsay flinched as Jocelyn flicked the back of the flyer with her middle finger. “They asked me if she looked familiar. I knew immediately who she was, but they wouldn’t tell me why they asked. Was he sleeping with her or something? I mean, I guess it would be better if I just knew the truth, because right now? I’m not sure whether to hate your friend or be worried for her. Maybe whoever killed Alex also—” She let the thought hang in the silence.

“As far as I know, Hope didn’t know your Alex. Did he ever mention her to you?”

She shook her head. “He’s literally the only guy I’ve ever dated who never gave me any reason to doubt him. I never caught him hiding his phone or checking out another woman in the corner of his eye. He was just . . . good. Solid. The only thing I can possibly think of is that we had a little too much wine one night and he seemed sort of distracted. He started rambling about how someone he used to know had booked a tour. It was messing with his head for some reason. I tried to press him, but he got really mad and eventually passed out. In the morning, he said he didn’t know what I was talking about. His company’s a tour outfit called Reel Deal Fishing. Any chance your friend went out on the water?”

Lindsay had already given this information to Carter Decker, so she figured she might recycle it to gain Jocelyn’s trust. “A couple of months ago, I think. Do you know where Alex grew up?”

“Arizona. And then he lived in Alaska before moving here.”

“Not Wichita, Kansas?”

“Not that he ever mentioned. The police asked me the same thing. Is that where your friend is from?”

Was it? Lindsay didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “Sorry, I still don’t understand why you said Hope was a stalker.”