“You need to leave now,” Amy hissed.

Niki gave Amy a soft smile, one that said, Yeah, we know what you did. Then she nodded to Matty and they headed toward the front door.

On the way, Niki had a thought. Gavin had an alibi for the night Lila Nash was raped, but Gavin was also a cunning little shit. Niki had no evidence that he faked his alibi, but at the same time, she was becoming more convinced he was not in Indiana that night. If Gavin was clever enough at the age of twelve to kill his own stepfather, he could surely manufacture an alibi.

Niki stopped in the doorway. “Ms. Spencer, I have one last name for you—Lila Nash. Did your son know anyone in high school named Lila Nash?”

“I told you to get out,” Amy said.

Niki nodded a polite goodbye and left.

As Niki walked with Matty back to her car, she wondered how long it would take for Amy to make her next trip to visit Gavin. And more important, how Gavin would react when she gave him the list of names—especially the last one, Lila Nash.

Chapter 43

Lila woke up that Saturday morning, rolled over to touch Joe, and found him gone, his side of the bed cold. He had texted her when he got to North Dakota, and they’d spoken on the phone last night, but that didn’t stop her muscle memory from seeking him out.

She hadn’t told him about Beth Malone’s plan to retire. If she had, he would have driven home, chucked the story so he could swoop in with some misguided impulse to rescue her. That was the last thing she wanted—or so she told herself. In truth, she wanted Joe there more than anything. She craved his strength. She would need him more than ever once her world fell apart.

She thought about staying in bed and dreaming about Joe, holding him in that hazy penumbra between wakefulness and sleep, and she would have had she not had an invitation to go rock climbing.

Lila still didn’t understand why Andi had asked her to go. It wasn’t as though they were friends. Hell, the woman had yet to crack a smile in Lila’s direction. If Andi hadn’t been her boss, there was no way she would have spent a Saturday climbing up the side of a bluff with her. But Andi was her boss, so Lila had decided to make the best of it.

* * *

Interstate State Park was a small slice of land along the St. Croix River. When Lila arrived, she found Andi waiting at the trailhead, wearing light pants, tight around the ankles, similar to the yoga pants that Lila wore but made of sturdier material. She wore a simple sports bra top that exposed a hard table of abdominal muscles, and she carried a backpack over her shoulder and a helmet in her hand.

“You’re late,” Andi said as Lila approached.