He stared at the desk. It was small, uncluttered—but there were cords going to the wall. Computer cords?

Had the police taken her computer? Why? Because there was evidence on it—or a suicide note—or something else?

Or was it missing? Stolen? Had she hidden it?

On the top of her dresser was a lot of makeup, perfume, photos, scraps of paper. Mostly sticky notes to herself about work, doctors’ appointments, phone numbers with only first names.

In the dim light, Lucas caught his reflection in the mirror attached to the dresser. What the fuck was he doing going through a dead woman’s house? He could lose everything. He could be expelled. He might not be able to get a job in law enforcement.

Then he saw the picture, partly hidden behind a bunch of other photos that were mostly of Taylor in college. He stared at it for a long minute, almost thinking that he had conjured the photo in his imagination.

He reached out and gingerly touched it.

It was real.

He pulled it out. A couple other photos tumbled to the dresser top, but he ignored them. He stared at the familiar faces.

Candace. Taylor.

Adele.

He had been right from the beginning.

He knew that Candace and Taylor had known Adele, even though they’d both denied it to him. There was no denying it now. Here was a photo of the three girls from their first year in college, arms around each other. Proof. Proof that they’d lied to him.

But what could he do with it? Was it proof when both Candace and Taylor were dead? Proof of what?

All three of them were now dead.

His phone vibrated, and he jumped.

He looked at the message. It was Troy.

It’s been 20 minutes—you good?

He pocketed his phone—and the photo—and left the house.

Thirty-One

Regan grabbed a quick lunch, then drove to Lucas’s apartment. Lizzy was on the couch when Lucas let Regan in. Remnants of deli sandwiches sat on the coffee table in front of them. Lucas quickly picked everything up as he said, “Nicole Bergamo reached out to Lizzy. This could be big.”

Regan listened as Lizzy recounted her conversation with Nicole and her offer to disguise her voice.

Based on what Nicole told Lizzy, she didn’t know anything about Candace’s disappearance though had some interesting insight as to the division in the sorority. What was interesting was Vicky Ryan’s anger toward her mentor.

Thirdhand information was harder to work with, but if Nicole called in, Regan had more questions to ask. The fact that she seemed adamant that Abernathy had played no role in Candace’s death made Regan think she knew something else—even if she didn’t fully understand what she might remember. Which was, unfortunately, the biggest problem with accessing three-year-old memories and observations. Time often slanted perception.