At the Suburban in front of him, Keil has a quick exchange with the agent behind the wheel. Garrett sees her nodding, then pointing at him. She sticks her phone back into her pocket. She walks over to the rental car and opens the door.

“I’m driving.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll know when we get there.”

Garrett exits the vehicle and goes around to the passenger seat. The Suburban ahead pulls out of the breakdown lane, lights flashing, and speeds away. Keil puts the car in gear. “What is this, a Corolla?”

“Yeah. A rental.”

Keil jams her foot down on the gas. Garrett’s head is thrown back against the seat. The Corolla accelerates and moves in behind the Suburban. The second SUV pulls up behind them. Garrett looks out the passenger side. Within ten seconds, the passing countryside is a blur.

“These things can move,” says Keil, “if they’re handled right.”

Garrett tilts his head to peek at the speedometer. Eighty-five and climbing.

“Can I use my phone?” asks Garrett.

“No, you can’t,” says Keil, maneuvering to within three feet of the Suburban’s rear bumper and locking in at ninety miles per hour. “Just relax and enjoy the ride.”

CHAPTER
59

Concord, New Hampshire

Sad outcome, Marie. But I’m glad it was you who finally found her.”

Deputy Attorney General Hugh Bastinelli is sitting behind his desk in his book-lined office. Across from him is Detective Sergeant Gagnon. Dark suit, white blouse. Her handbag is stashed under the cushioned chair.

“I was hoping for a happier ending,” says Gagnon, “but after seventeen years…”

Bastinelli finishes the thought. “We all knew the odds were against that.”

The pretty Patriots cheerleader disappeared the same year he graduated from law school. It was big news back then. But for almost twenty years, it seemed like the coldest of cold cases. It’s not surprising that the younger attorneys on his staff have never even heard of Suzanne Bonanno.

“So it was a random traffic stop?” asks Bastinelli.

Gagnon nods. “Somebody got stupid. We got lucky.”

“Well, like I said, I’m glad it was you.”

Bastinelli has worked murder cases with Gagnon before. He knows her as a precise, no-nonsense investigator who never forgets the collateral damage of a homicide—the anguish of the victims who are still alive. Mothers, fathers, siblings, friends…

But Bastinelli’s job is to convict the killer and put him in jail. Right now, he has nobody to charge. And Gagnon has nobody to offer. This is just an update meeting. Colleague to colleague. A heads-up.

“What about the driver?” asks Bastinelli, glancing down at his legal pad. “Mr. Lucienne?”

“A patsy, from what we can tell,” says Gagnon. “Claims he was paid—anonymously, in cash—to pick up the vehicle, drive it up to Lake Marie, leave it there overnight, then drive it back to where he found it.”

“Stolen vehicle?” asks Bastinelli.

Gagnon nods.