I dial his number, the one the guy at Downey Automotive wrote on the Post-it. It rings twice and then clicks to voice mail. As soon as it beeps, the words rush out of me. “Chris, this is Elena. The killer is Lynne. Stay away from her. Get Shawnda and run—just whatever you do, don’t meet with Lynne. I know you don’t trust me, but please, please believe me about this.”

There’s nothing more I can say, so I hang up. Dammit. I’m too late. If only he had listened to me earlier, if only I had been up-front with him from the beginning…but he’s probably already dead, and now his son will grow up without a father. Lynne’s taken both of their futures.

I don’t need to see Chris’s body to know how he died. I remember the crime scene photos perfectly. Shot like the other two and ditched on a street corner two blocks from Downey Automotive. I clench my fists, white-hot anger building at the thought of what she’s done. Of how she almost got away with it.

Not this time.

The fifth lifeguard tower stands alone before the waves, a raised white box against the dark sea. I make my way toward it, shoes sinking in the sand, and each step reminds me of when I came here with Adam. I couldn’t understand then why I would kill myself in this spot, but now it seems like I was fated to come here to fight for my future.

By the time I reach the tower, I’m clutching my side and breathing heavily, and I’ve stumbled twice on my weak ankle. Everything hurts, but I can’t lose focus now. I’m early—it’s only eleven—and I check the voice recorder app I downloaded on the bus. I switch it on and then stuff my phone in my underwear, a place I figure Lynne won’t search me if I die. But the police will find it. I just have to get Lynne to confess, so that she won’t get away with our murders. I won’t let Adam spend the rest of his life trusting a murderer.

I lean against the side of the lifeguard tower, scanning the beach around me. It’s pitch-black except for the faint sliver of the moon and the dim light on the sand. Everything here is in black and white—the sand, the water, the sky, the few stars visible over the light of the city. The only thing with any color is the Ferris wheel in the distance.

After some time, a slim figure approaches from the parking lot, moving quickly over the sand. As it gets closer I make out the shape of a woman in a suit. Lynne.