“But you got a name,” a heavyset man said from behind Mr. Donovan. “That guy who lives in the woods out there on Coastal.”

“They’re sayin’ you found something of hers in his house,” Mr. Donovan said. “I want to know what and why.”

“We can’t discuss the details of the investigation, but we’re getting closer to finding out who killed your daughter. Right now you and your friends are keeping us from doing our jobs.”

Mr. Donovan scowled before taking a step back. “He’s gonna pay for what he’s done to my baby. I don’t care if I go to jail. You better find him, Deputy.”

Lane cringed at the implied threat left behind as the men left. An old-fashioned lynch mob had formed with Sydney Donovan’s father at the helm? This Mr. Donovan wasn’t the same man who had stood next to his wife at the church’s benefit for their daughter, docile but grief-stricken. This was a father who wanted to inflict his suffering on the one who caused it. And it was frightening as much as it was shocking to witness the man’s transformation. Is that what Charlie meant earlier? People can do unexplainable things when they are suffering?

“Well, I tell you what”—her father’s campaign manager used a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead—“the installation of metal detectors in every courthouse will be the first thing on your father’s agenda.”

“That ain’t your only problem.” Ms. Carson sneered. “Don’t think that little fiasco erased my memory. I know what I heard—there are two killers living in this small town.”

“Alright.” Mr. Adams spread his hands out. “I think Judge Sullivan and his daughter need some privacy. Ms. Carson, I know your attorney charges by the minute, so I suggest you go on into his office, take care of whatever business you have, and make him earn his paycheck.”

Ms. Carson looked ready to argue, but her lawyer took hold of her elbow and led her away.

Charlie returned to Lane’s side. “Are you okay?”

“They’re going to hunt him down,” she said, her voice wavering. “They won’t understand his condition. If they find him—”

“Lane, my office,” her father said.

Charlie locked eyes with her and gave her a nod before she followed her father into the office, with Mr. Adams and Charlie following behind.

“Now, I have a signed warrant for Miguel Roa that explains why Deputy Lynch is here, but I want to know why you’re here.”

Lane’s composure slipped under her father’s penetrating stare, but having Charlie in the room made her feel less alone. “For Miguel.”

The vein in her father’s neck pulsed. “Why?”