Still standing near the SUV, he glanced at the screen, then tapped it to speaker. “Mariella. You’re on speaker again.”
“Sorry—I ended that call too soon,” Mariella said. “Matthew is here at the hotel with me, and he has an update also.”
A soft rustle sounded before Matthew’s voice came on the line. “Hey. Things are moving fast.”
Andi leaned against the SUV, suddenly grateful for the solid metal at her back. “What’s going on?”
“Two things. Firstly, I confirmed Miles’s alibi. He was online gaming last night. He didn’t do this.”
“Good to know,” Andi muttered. “What else?”
“I also spoke to someone with the LAPD,” Matthew said. “You mentioned Detective Hawkins in San Francisco was . . . difficult. I was hoping LA would be different.”
Andi crossed her arms. “I have a feeling there’s abutcoming.”
“A big one,” Matthew said. There was a distracted pause. “Which sounds like the start of a bad joke, but I promise it’s not.”
“Matthew . . .” Duke warned.
“Right. Sorry.” His tone sharpened. “The detective here warned us to stay out of it. Said we’re not law enforcement, that we complicate active investigations. He was . . . blunt, to say the least.”
“And biased,” Andi said. “Let me guess—he doesn’t like true crime podcasters.”
“That came through loud and clear,” Matthew said. “He said people like us hurt more than we help, that we turn real suffering into entertainment.”
Andi’s jaw tightened. “That’s rich.”
She struggled with that concept at first—monetizing crime. But she knew her motives—and they’d never been about money.
She was only a part of this podcast so she could help others.
“He did, however, say he would look into it,” Matthew finished. “So he didn’t totally dismiss me.”
“What about the FBI?” Duke asked. “Did you reach out?”
“I did,” Matthew said. “But getting someone to take me seriously has been harder than I expected.”
“But now Jen is dead.” Heat crept into Andi’s voice. “This isn’t speculation anymore. This is homicide.”
Brief silence stretched over the line.
Then Mariella’s voice cut in from the background, quieter but firm. “Maybe they’ll take us more seriously now.”
Andi wasn’t so sure.
If anything, the walls felt like they were closing in—the police were pushing them away just as the danger sharpened.
Somewhere between Portland and LA, a killer had just proven he was willing to finish what he started.
Andi balled her hands into fists.
Whether law enforcement liked it or not, they were already in this.
And she had no intention of backing out now.
Duke didn’t like where this was going.
An ominous feeling gripped him as he and Andi grabbed Chinese food for everyone and then headed back to the hotel.
