“I understand,” Becca said. She put her head in her hands, doing her best to look as pitiful as possible, hoping it would motivate her to go. She waited until the door was closed and Becca sprang to her feet. She hated playing the damsel in distress, but her ruse worked. She rushed over to the computer tucked into the corner. As a member of the LAPD, Becca was granted access to the department’s database. This allowed her to search a variety of records, ranging from DMV records to arrest reports. Becca typed in her password.

“ACCESS DENIED” appeared on the screen. The LAPD certainly didn’t waste any time removing her security clearance. Nervously eyeing the door, Becca weighed her options. She could wait for Christian to return with snacks, and an offer to drive her back to the hospital or she could say, “Screw it.” Becca took a deep breath, knowing she was crossing a line if she did this, but she did it anyway. She entered Nina’s password, her son and daughter’s birthday, hoping Nina hadn’t changed it.

The search screen popped up. Becca typed in the name Paul Wilson. Within seconds, she located his driver’s license photo and address. She snapped a picture with her phone and logged off. She remembered Christian’s promise not to let Becca out of his sight. She had to get out of here before he came back. Becca grabbed her bag and slowly opened the door.

She took a quick glance, relieved that the hallway was empty and then fast walked out, heading toward the front of the station, holding her breath and praying they wouldn’t see her. Wishard said she needed more concrete evidence, something that might connect Mo to these crimes. If anyone could fill in the blanks about Mo, it was her ex-husband. Becca didn’t care what rules or laws she had to break. All that mattered was stopping this woman before she hurt anyone else.

BECCA

BECCA

Thirty miles west of Los Angeles sits the coastal paradise of Malibu. At one time a coveted Spanish land grant, Malibu was passed down to a succession of wealthy Los Angeles families. In the 1950s, surfers discovered these beaches. Today, Malibu was home to a few devoted locals and celebrities who could afford the multimillion dollars for their piece of paradise.