There’s no oxygen in the room as we all calculate what this might mean.
Three payouts before Zoe.
Rio snaps his fingers toward his brother and walks to hisdesk. He sits and begins typing. “Enzo. Give me those names again.”
I know exactly what he’s doing, and I dread the outcome. He’s searching for death certificates.
Only a few minutes after Enzo gives him the names, Rio announces the exact terrifying scenario we’ve all been hoping isn’t true.
“All these women are dead.” The blue light of Rio’s computer catches every sharp angle of his face, and his eyes illuminate with rage. “Car accidents.”
His gaze snaps over to Enzo’s identical eyes. As if sharing twin telepathy, Rio silently asks if Avarice ever paid Mariana.
Enzo clicks farther back in the files and lifts an apologetic gaze.
There’s nothing on Mariana.
The brothers stare at each other without blinking for what feels like an eternity. Ava flicks her gaze between them, registering the same sadness I do.
There’s no evidence for Mariana’s murder in those bank accounts.
But we still have a serial killer on our hands.
And Ingram covered it up. Orhefucking did it? If it was a cover-up, did he know about all these other women, too?
Is Ingram Mace?
Surely, the Marshalls, or someone in this tiny town, would have noticed Ingram and Zoe were close? There aren’t a lot of places to hide in Echo Valley. There are still too many questions.
Ava puts a hand on Enzo’s shoulder. “Do you need a break? I can take over.” She smooths her hand through his hair, trying to give him some comfort because it’s clear to seethat, despite it not being his fault, he feels he failed his brother.
Ava is gentle with him but still in command of the job that needs to be done. “We still need the account holder’s name.”
Enzo takes her hand and kisses the back of it. “You need a rest more than I do. I got this.”
And I turn back to yet another question reeling through my mind. These other names aren’t women from Echo Valley.
“Rio,” I say. “The other women, were their death certificates issued in California?”
Rio turns back to the screen where he found the certificates as a matter of public record. Thank God for people searching up their genealogy.
Rio’s eyebrows knit together. “All three of these women have Nevada certificates.”
This isn’t pointing cleanly to Ingram.
“It’s unlikely Mace is Ingram then,” I say.
Ava turns toward me. “Explain.”
“He couldn’t be running across state lines like this. And does he have the money for these transfers? On a cop’s salary with a family—unless he has some other source we don’t know about.” My wheels are spinning.
“It’s possible he has a source,” she offers. “And a double life is possible, too.”
“It is, yeah. But unlikely. Traveling to Nevada several times a year to meet women, pay them, kill them, and cover it up without his wife noticing? Ingram coaches the Little League team; he’s active in our community. There are only twenty-four hours in a day. We’ve got three women in Nevada paid by Avarice in two years. And that’s only what we know about.”
Rio taps the table with two fingers. “But Ingramisinvolved. He lied and omitted evidence in Zoe’s case.”
“He knew something,” I agree. “But maybe he wasn’t protecting himself.”
