D.D. looked at him. “Check the front street,” she said.

He got what she meant, and jogged a quick tour around the block. Sure enough, half a block down, on the other side of the street, a car was missing both plates. Tessa had obviously pilfered from it to outfit her own ride.

Resourceful, he thought again, but also sloppy. She was racing against the clock, meaning she’d grabbed the nearest plates, instead of burning time with the safer option of snatching plates from a vehicle blocks away.

Meaning she was starting to leave a trail and they could use it to find her.

Bobby should feel good about that, but he felt mostly tired. He couldn’t stop thinking what it must’ve been like, returning home from duty, walking through the front door, to discover a man holding her daughter hostage. Give us your gun, no one will get hurt.

Then the same man, shooting Brian Darby three times before disappearing with Tessa’s little girl.

If Bobby had ever walked through the door, found someone with a gun at Annabelle’s head, threatening his wife and child …

Tessa must’ve felt half-crazed with desperation and fear. She would’ve agreed to anything they wanted, while maintaining a cop’s inherent mistrust. Knowing her cooperation would never be enough, of course they’d betray her first chance they got.

So she desperately needed to get one step ahead. Cover up her own husband’s death to buy time. Plant a corpse with baby teeth and homemade explosives as a macabre backup plan.

Shane had originally stated Tessa had called him Sunday morning and requested that he beat her up. Except now they knew Shane had most likely been part of the problem. Made sense—a friend “helping” another friend would just smack her around a little, not deliver a concussion requiring an overnight hospital stay.

Meaning it had been Shane’s idea to beat Tessa. How would that play out? Let’s drag your husband’s dead body up from the garage to defrost. Then, I’m going to pound the shit out of you for kicks and giggles. Then, you’ll call the police and claim you shot your dirtbag husband because he was going to kill you?

They’d known she’d get arrested. Shane, at the very least, should’ve figured out how thin her story would sound, especially with Sophie missing and Brian’s body having been artificially maintained on ice.

They’d wanted her arrested. They’d needed her behind bars.

It all came down to the money, Bobby thought again. Quarter mil missing from the troopers’ union. Who’d stolen it? Shane Lyons? Someone higher in the food chain?

Someone smart enough to realize that sooner or later they’d have to supply a suspect before internal affairs grew too close.