I have to ditch Thistle’s car. All police vehicles are low-jacked. Right now, I’m a blinking light on a digital map in someone’s office.

But I won’t get far on foot. Which means I need to ditch it somewhere where there are other transport options. Bus station. Airport. I can’t fly anywhere, but it’ll take them a while to work out that I didn’t.

Or I could leave it unlocked in a bad neighbourhood with the keys on the seat. Get the cops chasing some joy rider for a few hours.

I could make someone pull over, use the gun to jack them. But assuming I don’t get shot in the process—it happens—I’d be committing a pretty serious crime, which it would be tough to explain to Thistle. Later, once she realises that I’m innocent.

But you’re not innocent, she says in my head.

‘I am.’

You cut off Biggs’s head and put it in the freezer.

‘Yeah, but I didn’t kill him. Or Ruthven.’

You cut off his hand and left it at the college. You ate parts of him. You—

‘Once I find Luxford or his accomplice, I can prove they buried Ruthven’s body in my yard. Then they’ll get blamed for everything.’

My conscience falls silent, but I can tell she’s not convinced. Thistle has seen the real me now. No matter who takes the rap, I can’t undo that.

I pull over on the side of the I-60 and dig out the burner phone Warner gave me. It takes me a minute to switch on the data, and then another minute to register a burner email address. After that I google my way to the giantess forums Biggs was frequenting and create an account.

After scrolling through a ton of weird porn, I eventually find the comment I’m looking for. It’s under a story about a shy man, seduced by a giant woman. Anyone want to try this in real life? DM me. Posted by SleepingBeauty321.

I check the profile. No photo, no bio, but a location: Houston, Texas. My hunch was right.

Without the resources of the FBI, the only way I’m going to catch the wigmaker is by using myself as bait. I send a short message: I want to do this for real. I can pay.

I wonder how similar that is to what Biggs wrote, before he died. Alone and scared, miles from the woman he loved.

Headlights flash in the corner of my eye. I turn my head and get a quick glimpse of the car before it smashes into the side of Thistle’s Crown Vic.

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 41

A plane crashes on the border between Texas and Mexico. Where are the survivors buried?