“It shouldn’t take long for them to know that Dani Strauss and Danielle Stevens are the same person. If they find us before your stalker does, then it’s game over, I’m afraid. He’ll disappear into the wind. The only hope of finding him would be if you could give a sketch artist a good enough description. Who knows? Face recognition may pop up something.”

“The problem is, when I think of the man pretending to be Detective Zapalac, I see a guy in clown makeup looking back at me in the mirror…like he was in the car.”

“The only definitive thing we’ve got so far is from the rape victim. She said he had a tattoo on his wrist. Red feather, she thought.”

Dani’s eyes widened. “Yes! I remember it. He always had on a suit when he came but I remember one time he moved his sleeve to look at his watch. I saw it then, but I couldn’t make out what it was. It was definitely red.” She leaned back again, trying to picture Detective Zapalac’s face. Or rather the man pretending to be a detective. Short dark hair, nearly black. Clean shaven. He was a handsome man. But now that she thought about it, he was a little standoffish. Not friendly. Nothing warm and fuzzy about him. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. He was simply a cop answering her call, coming to her aid…because of a stalker.

And he had been the stalker all along.

Chapter Forty-Six

“This place rivals the Eastside Budget Inn,” Harper said as she stood inside the motel room. There was a lone queen bed, a small dresser—the corners chipped—and a dirty, dingy chair that had a rip in the seat.

“It might actually be worse, I think,” Dani murmured. “There’s a stain on the bedspread. I’m afraid to even guess what it might be.”

“I’m sorry. Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“No. It’s not like we’re planning on sleeping. Same plan as last night?”

“Yeah.” She placed the locket on the dresser, then went to the adjoining door and unlocked it. Like last night, she left the lights off. The room reeked of cigarette smoke, but she imagined it covered up other, more unpleasant odors. The drapes were already drawn tight so she went into the bathroom and turned on the light. She watched as a roach darted across the floor, disappearing behind the toilet. A steady drip, drip, drip brought her attention to the sink, the drain lined with rust.

“How is it?” Dani asked as she looked over her shoulder.

“I’m going to vote that we skip showers.”

“That bad, huh?”

She left the door cracked, just enough to cast a little light into the room. “I’m going to stage the other room. Be right back.”