Claire stopped walking and frowned. “That sounds suspiciously like a pep talk,” she said. “Are you trying to psych me up for this?” she asked.

Greg smiled, his brown eyes twinkling in the fluorescent lights of the precinct basement. “Absolutely not, Puhl, I would not dare—”

“Because if you were, I’d tell you I don’t need your patronizing pat on the back to know that I’m going to crush this.”

He nodded. “Absolutely,” he said again, and then he lifted his hands in the air and made a quick jab with his right fist. “Go get ’em.”

Claire grit her teeth as he chuckled again, then she turned and stormed up the stairs.

Go, go, you can do it.

Chapter 21

Paula

The day after

I arrived at the truck stop off I-90 just before four thirty. I walked inside, planning to launch into a speech or ask Hooks questions about the previous night, but he wasn’t there. Instead, a tall man I’d never seen before walked over, asked me my name, and handed me a large duffel bag.

“The phone?” he said.

It was suspicious as all hell, but neither of the two customers nor the attendant at the small convenience store looked up.

I reached into my pocket and took out the phone, handing it to him. A moment later, the man was gone, and I sat there staring at the bag. I waited a few moments, gathering the courage to stand up and leave, the bag in my hand. It had to weigh at least twenty pounds, and I tensed my biceps to hold it and walk naturally back to my car. I left the truck stop and drove almost halfway home before I reached over and unzipped it with one hand.

And then I saw green.

I didn’t know how much money it was, but it didn’t seem to matter, since it was more money than I’d ever seen in my entire life. I felt a wave of guilt rush over me as the reality of what had just happened settled in.

He’s the bad guy.

He’s cheating, and he wants to hide it.

It’s not your fault you saw him.

He can afford it.

I said it over and over to myself as I drove home, the duffel bag full of cash on my passenger seat. I felt sick but also a bit excited as I thought about what was inside the bag.

I was doing this.

No—I’d done it.

What had started out as just a ridiculous, passing notion had turned into a huge bag of cold, hard cash.

And as bad as I’d felt about what I’d done, I couldn’t help but feel…giddy.

We could afford the surgery.