I picked my laptop up off the dresser and carried it over to the bed before sitting down. I could hear Keith laughing at something in the living room, and I still fumed over how quickly the news of Beverly’s death had gone in one ear and out the other for him. I wasn’t judging him for it. I’m sure I’d done the same thing many times before—watched the news at night and seen horrible deaths and fires, then gone on to turn to whatever sitcom came on and cackled just as loudly.

But this time was different.

I couldn’t accept that somebody had killed her, right upstairs, later that night, after I’d drunkenly made my way home—

I gasped as a thought crossed my mind.

Had it been after I left? I didn’t know how long, exactly, I’d lain on the carpet in Emma’s apartment. What if it had happened while—

I closed my eyes and put the laptop on the bed. Placing both hands on my knees, I forced myself to take long, slow, deep breaths until the panic subsided. Picking the computer up again, I navigated to Google and typed in her name. A handful of news articles popped up, all posted within the last forty-five minutes.

WOMAN’S BODY FOUND IN GOLD COAST APARTMENT

PROMINENT CHICAGO LAWYER FOUND DEAD IN APARTMENT

One of the articles contained the same video I’d just watched of the detective. I played it again and watched as Detective Puhl stared out into the crowd.

The article went on to include a quote from Beverly’s parents, who lived in Tucson.

“Beverly was the love of our lives, our only child,” her mother was quoted as saying. “I ask you all to respect our privacy during this tragic period.”

Then there was a person from her law firm, crying into the camera, which I’d missed when Keith flipped the channel.

“Beverly was one of the best of the best, a lawyer with the highest integrity. Beyond that, she was a great friend and person who really cared about people.”

My hands were shaking as I read the same stories over and over again. Beverly’s law firm would be holding a memorial at a local church the next day. I thought about the detective’s words as she looked into the camera.

To anyone who has any information at all, I invite you to come forward.

I felt ill and put the computer down on the bed beside me again, lying back until the wave of nausea passed.

Detective Puhl could’ve been talking directly to me, but what could I come forward and say? What exactly could I tell them about that night? How much could I share about Hooks without giving away the fact that I had a duffel bag filled with his money sitting in my bathroom closet?

I sucked in a breath and tried to focus.