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Chapters (46)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgements
  5. one
  6. two
  7. three
  8. four
  9. five
  10. six
  11. seven
  12. eight
  13. nine
  14. ten
  15. eleven
  16. twelve
  17. thirteen
  18. fourteen
  19. fifteen
  20. sixteen
  21. seventeen
  22. eighteen
  23. nineteen
  24. twenty
  25. twenty-one
  26. twenty-two
  27. twenty-three
  28. twenty-four
  29. twenty-five
  30. twenty-six
  31. twenty-seven
  32. twenty-eight
  33. twenty-nine
  34. thirty
  35. thirty-one
  36. thirty-two
  37. thirty-three
  38. thirty-four
  39. thirty-five
  40. thirty-six
  41. thirty-seven
  42. thirty-eight
  43. thirty-nine
  44. forty
  45. forty-one
  46. forty-two

“Claire was Tamara’s friend from college. Tamara disappeared after she left you, and Claire joined the group trying to find out what happened. She thought it had something to do with Ginny and Brandi’s murders.”

Vee’s eyes shuttered. “I didn’t know that.”

And she didn’t like finding out now. It meant that Claire had been nice to her for a reason.

“Did you ever see Claire with Cody Radu?” I asked. “I heard something about the two of them arguing. If that’s true and Claire was investigating, it could mean Alastair had nothing to do with the deaths.”

“They did. The day before she died. At the hardware store. Claire went in, saying she needed something. I was with Megan. She looked in the window and saw them go out back together. Later Megan came to our room and told Claire to stay away from Cody. Said he was trouble.” She hesitated, then looked at me. “What if Megan did kill those girls and she figured out that Claire was snooping around, looking for the killer? That’d be bad for Claire.”

Way too many holes in that theory, too, but it confirmed that Claire had been with Cody. And if Megan knew it, maybe there was something there.

twenty-four

twenty-four

Next stop: Paula Thompson, for a little chat about her dead daughter’s paternity. I’d barely gone a block when my cell phone rang.

“Ms. Levine?”

I recognized the woman’s voice, but definitely not the meek tone.

“It’s Tiffany Radu,” she said.

“Yes?”

“I—” A deep breath sighed through the line. “I need to speak to you. Can—can we meet?”

“Sure, how about the diner—”

“No. I mean in private. I heard about Detective Kennedy and ... oh, God.” A broken sob. “Please, can we meet in private, before I change my mind?”

“Okay. My motel—”

A shaky laugh. “The last thing I need is to be seen sneaking into a seedy motel room. There’s an empty building downtown that my husband’s company owns. Can I meet you there?”

“Sure. My partner should be back any minute. I’ll get him to drive me—

“It’s within walking distance, if you’re near the diner. And I’d really, really rather you didn’t tell anyone you’re meeting with me. I don’t want Cody to find out.”

“Understandable. What’s the address?”

DAMN, TIFFANY WAS quite the little actress. A bit high school, with all the sighs and sobs, but still pretty damn good.

Yes, I knew it was an act. Come on. The bitch goes from clawing me to begging for help? Sure, something traumatic might have happened. But wanting to meet in an empty building? And not tell anyone? That was a tip-off only a moron would miss.

I picked up my pace.