But they were still processing him out, which meant they didn’t have a prosecutable case yet. They would need to re-interview witnesses from the party, focus their attention on Gavin’s movements that night. They would dig through the evidence bags in search of anything that might put Gavin in the backseat of that car. He had been careful, even if Jack had not. He knew they would find no DNA or trace evidence—but they might find Jack.

With Vauk dead, they would be frantic in their efforts to get him back behind bars. His window of opportunity would be small, a matter of days or maybe even hours.

And still the clock on the wall refused to tick.

If the State’s best evidence rested on the word of a single woman, he merely had to silence that woman—Sadie Vauk had proven that. With Lila gone, the photo would become meaningless. And with Jack gone, the last remaining witness would be eliminated.

At 4:27 p.m., Gavin Spencer became a free man, stepping out of the jail into a heavy downpour of rain, his green folder held over his head as an umbrella. He needed to move quickly to put his plan into motion. Step one—find out where Lila lived. With any luck, he might catch her leaving work.

He didn’t go directly to the Government Center, though, just in case anyone was watching him. Instead, he slipped into a parking ramp, which he knew connected to the Government Center via the skyway. He crossed the skyway, dropped his folder with the hidden SIM card into a trash receptacle, and grabbed a newspaper to hide behind.

The atrium of the Government Center buzzed with people heading home for the day. Gavin found a bench facing a calm reflecting pool, beyond which lay the bank of elevators. He opened his newspaper to a random page and began watching—and thinking.

How could he follow her if she had driven to work? Getting a cab would be impossible in the rain; besides, a cab would keep a record of the route. He seemed to recall seeing one of those bike sharing racks out in the courtyard. He had a credit card in his wallet. It would record his rental, there at the Government Center, but he’d just gotten out of jail, so that could be easily explained. With the rain and the congestion of rush-hour traffic, he might be able to keep up with her. If all else failed, he would buy a new laptop—a throwaway—and hunt her down that way, but he would have to move quickly.

Gavin breathed in the sweet air of freedom, reveling at how it carried no hint of desperation, or fear, or sweaty men who wanted to beat him to death. Gavin was a free man, and he would stay that way. There was nothing he wouldn’t do—no labor too difficult, no risk too great, no price too high—to stay out of prison now. Lila would die. They would suspect him, of course, but if he left no evidence, he would face no greater jeopardy than what he had with Sadie or the others. Do it soon. Do it cleanly. But do it, and put the nightmare to rest.