For the past seven days, Rebecca had followed Sophia and discovered nothing remotely suggesting the blonde was doing anything the least bit sketchy.

Sophia went to work, ran errands, attended a yoga class, bought groceries and gas, used the drive-thru at a bank, and purchased espresso at a coffee kiosk located off Main Street. Then, every night, she would tuck into her apartment.

A boring, simple life.

Rebecca couldn’t follow her 24/7, of course, but as far as she could tell, Sophia just seemed to be going about her life.

Outwardly, she was doing nothing that would cause the least bit of concern.

Except she didn’t have a single friend and zero social life.

None of the women Sophia worked with hung out with her, nor did she linger after yoga to chat with the women who attended the same class. She did have a few social media accounts, but they had been inactive for a while. Rebecca had checked.

No girlfriends.

No boyfriends.

Nothing.

Even the sister whom Rebecca had seen a couple of times, the dark-haired woman with glasses, didn’t seem to be around anymore. Rebecca wondered about that as the woman hadn’t seemed to have her own wheels; she’d always driven Sophia’s car. But when the two were together, Julia had always driven.

So what?

Not a big deal.

But a little odd.

Also odd was the fact that the landlady of the apartment building had been in the hospital, nearly died. Probably just a coincidence, but Rebecca made note of it.

She’d also started digging into Sophia Russo’s life to find out exactly how Sophia had ended up here in Riggs Crossing, but so far had found nothing that would suggest anything other than that she’d found a job here.

Still, this little town in the middle of northern Washington was a long way from the Bay Area.

The only true reason Rebecca was following her was because of Megan, who was still missing. Sophia had been the source of the breakup between Megan and James, the cause of their violent fight that had sent James to the hospital and Megan driving over the mountains . . .

And then she’d disappeared.

No sign of her.

Until her car had been found in Harold Sinclaire’s cabin.

Rebecca had hoped that the police would get a hit, some information from Megan’s computer and phone, both found in her car—evidence, a fingerprint or whatever on the Toyota itself that would lead them to her sister.

So far that hadn’t been the case.

She started her rental, intent on leaving for the night, but she took one last look at the Cascadia apartments and stopped.

She saw the door of Sophia’s darkened apartment open. In a second, the blonde locked her door, hurried to her parked car, and backed out.

“So where are you going now?” Rebecca wondered aloud and then, heart pounding, started to follow.

* * *