“I think it would be difficult for that woman to cover up a murder to protect the killer. She doesn’t seem to have motive to lie. Now, you asked about Alexa. Why?”

“I might have found something,” Lucas said. “Candace was in Kingman. Alexa Castillo is from Kingman. She graduated the year before Candace. I tried to find her, but she doesn’t appear to have any social-media profiles, and the name is too common to do a broader internet search. A basic search came up with more than a dozen in Arizona alone. There’s nothing about her in any of the alumnae news, but she majored in elementary education.”

“That confirms what Richie Traverton told me.” Regan gave Lucas the basic rundown on her conversation with Richie, including that he’d seen Candace with a prepaid flip phone the week before she disappeared. “Richie said she was close to a sorority sister in Kingman. It’s not a large city.”

“Only three Sigma Rho members are from Kingman who overlapped with Candace.”

“You have been busy,” Regan said. “What do you want to do about it?”

“Like you said, lay everything out for my listeners. Tomorrow’s podcast is going to be explosive.”

“I’ll see what I can do to track down Alexa Castillo.”

“I’ll send you everything I have on her,” he said. “But I found something else.” He reached into his back pocket and handed her an envelope. The same type of red letters spelled LUCAS on the front as the note from yesterday. It wasn’t sealed, the folded paper simply tucked in.

She unfolded it.

END IT NOW.

Like the first note, there was no explicit threat. But the message was clear: I know who you are, I know where you live, I know the car you drive. I can find you if you don’t do what I want you to do.

It was an intimidation tactic, pure and simple.

Twenty-Eight

“We need to talk to Detective Young,” Regan said. “He should be aware that your podcast is riling up someone on campus or nearby. Someone who may personally know you. It’s for your protection.”

“No one I know would do this,” he said.

“Someone followed us. They know where you live, they know the car you drive. They could have been following you for a while, or may have access to college records.”

“I don’t have a parking pass.”

She pointed to a sticker on his rear window.

“That’s just so I can park in the student lots cheaper, as a commuter student.”

“The university keeps records. Trust me, for someone who has accessed the university system, it’s not difficult to find info—especially for a staff member or student who works in one of the administrative offices.”

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Young’s number. It took him a few rings to answer.

“Young.”

“It’s Regan Merritt.”

“Is something wrong?”