“But my only campaign, to be clear, is for a seat in the US Senate to represent my home state of Kansas, where I’m proud to have been born and raised and to be runnin’ one of the largest family-owned retailers in the country.” Melanie was already droppin’ her g’s like every politician tryin’ to be folksy, Lindsay noticed. “But, yes, absolutely, if elected, I would sponsor and support legislation aimed at true gender equity. And though it would be a nice starting point, it is not enough to pay men and women the same wages for the same jobs—not if we continue to denigrate and devalue work that has traditionally been performed by women.” Lindsay found herself nodding along as Melanie ticked off a list of underpaid professions on her fingers: nurses, teachers, secretaries . . . “Ask yourself—why do janitors make more than housekeepers? Or radiologists more than pediatricians? Because we systematically undervalue women’s work. I know we can do better, because I’ve been doin’ it at my company for years.”

A man who looked unmistakably like a university professor in his cardigan sweater and plaid bow tie rose from the front row, asked the audience to give a final round of applause for their distinguished speaker, and invited those guests who were registered for the ticketed reception to proceed to the plaza.

Despite instructions, a handful of audience members pressed to the well of the lecture hall as everyone else proceeded to the exits at the rear. Lindsay noticed that the bow-tied professor remained at Melanie’s side. As the host of the lecture, he’d be the one to escort her to the next location.

She and Ellie slipped from the room as the crowd thinned, but lingered in the atrium, keeping their eyes on the doors. When Melanie and her guide finally emerged, they followed a few feet behind.

The professor gestured toward a door marked with a piece of paper that read “Reserved,” and Lindsay saw her chance as Melanie moved toward it. “Oh, thank god. Is that a ladies’ room? I feel like a rat in a maze in this building.”

The professor stepped forward with one arm raised. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. There’s a restroom open to the public. Uh, I think it’s the end of this hall, then take a right, and then the next left?”

Ellie didn’t miss a beat. “But I can see the stick-lady sign under that piece of paper. TMI, sorry, but my friend really needs to go.”

“Um—”

Melanie was already holding the door open. Lindsay was certain that Carter Decker would have contacted Melanie by now about her husband’s murder, but if she recognized Lindsay from her connection to Hope’s case, she wasn’t letting on. “Oh, there’s plenty of space in here. I don’t need a room all to myself,” she assured the professor. “Come on in, ladies.”