“Ah, that explains the delivery. You sent it from there?”

“If someone sent you something, it wasn’t me, and I know nothing about it. What did you get?”

A package, they explained. Delivered directly to the sheriff’s department first thing this morning. Apparently from me. Inside, they’d found all my supposed case evidence—copies of my notes, my interviews, plus some notes that weren’t mine. All of it led to a single conclusion. Paula Thompson had shot Ginny and Brandi, whom she believed were plotting to kill Kayla. According to the extra notes, though, I’d found no evidence to support that, and personally thought she just wanted a way to get custody of her granddaughter and rid herself of her embarrassment of a daughter.

“We’ve verified most of the details,” the detective said. “We have phone records showing the calls from the Degas home to Paula Thompson, and to Alastair Koppel. We’ve confirmed your DNA findings—he is the girl’s grandfather, which speaks to his motive in helping Thompson. We expect to charge him as an accessory after the fact.”

She beamed at me. “You’re an excellent investigator, Ms. Levine. If you’ve ever considered going legit, we’re always looking for recruits.”

Her partner cleared his throat. “Oh, and this was in the package,” he said, handing me an envelope. “You must have left it in the file by accident.”

I took the envelope. On the front was my name, with Confidential below it. I ripped it open and read.

Hey, kiddo. If you’re reading this, then I guess you won. Good job. I know I should be gracious, but I can’t help it—I’m a sore loser. I want a little payback. And my hell will be a little cozier, knowing I got it. Say hi to little Kayla for me. Tell her she has every right to hate your guts and hate the world and grow up just like Mommy, as every little girl should.

I crumpled the letter, rage filling me.

Adam’s hand tightened on my shoulder and he leaned to my ear, whispering, “We’ll fix this.”

How could we? The damage was done. My own work, used to do exactly what I’d tried to avoid.

“You’ll have to excuse us,” Adam said. “Savannah’s been ill and she’s very tired. If you need to speak to her, can we do this another time?” He passed them his card. “I’m going to get her home.”