Andi’s stomach dropped. “Mariella?”
She swallowed hard, eyes glassy. “I don’t know if this is connected or not. But . . . there was a woman I knew years ago . . .”
Duke’s voice was steady when he spoke. “You think this could be connected to you?”
Mariella nodded once. “I think it might be.”
The weight of it settled deep in Andi’s chest.
These crimes weren’t random.
They weren’t opportunistic.
They were personal.
Duke stayed close as they gathered around Mariella.
He instinctively positioned himself where he could see everyone at once. The night felt tighter now and the air heavier, as if the truth had narrowed the space around them.
Mariella stood with her arms wrapped around herself, staring at a point just past the group. Duke recognized the look—someone bracing for impact before delivering a blow.
“It was back when I lived in LA,” she began. “Years ago. There was a woman I knew. Not a close friend, but someone in my orbit. We ran in the same circles. She’d been talking for weeks about leaving. Going to Mexico. Starting over. She kept saying she needed to disappear for a while.”
Duke watched everyone as she spoke. Andi’s face was tight with focus. Ranger had gone still. Even Simmy looked braced.
“She had debt collectors after her,” Mariella continued. “Aggressive ones. They called everyone she knew—friends, coworkers, acquaintances—trying to track her down. It got ugly. So when she vanished . . . everyone assumed she’d finally done it. That she’d run.”
They waited for her to continue.
“No one went looking for her. Not really. We talked about her for a few days. Then life moved on. But she hadn’t run.” Mariella’s voice wavered for the first time. “She’d been abducted.”
A sharp breath moved through the group.
“She eventually escaped,” Mariella went on. “Weeks later. She showed up at my apartment—thin, furious, terrified. She’d screamed at me. Asked how I could believe she’d just walk away. How I could let it go.”
Duke didn’t miss the way Mariella’s hands clenched.
“She said if even one of us had pushed—just one—maybe someone would’ve noticed sooner.” Mariella shook her head. “I tried to apologize, but . . . she didn’t want to hear it. I don’t blame her.”
Silence stretched.
Guilt like that didn’t fade. Duke knew that firsthand. It waited and sharpened.
“And you’ve carried this ever since,” Andi said.
Mariella nodded. “Every time we cover a disappearance where people assume the worst—or the easiest—I think of her.”
Ranger spoke up, voice low. “What was her name?”
Mariella hesitated, then said it. “April Altman.”
Duke committed the name to memory immediately.
“We need to look into her case.” Duke didn’t phrase it as a suggestion.
Mariella met his gaze. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
CHAPTER
