If her home were not a pile of ash and charred wood right now, Talia might have laughed. “You think she set my house on fire?”
“We suspect that she’s responsible for a lot more than that, actually. All those threatening text messages and emails? The slashed tires on your car? The note in your bathroom? The brick through Townsend’s window? We believe Meera may be the architect behind all of that.”
“The dead bat in my office desk drawer?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Never mind.” In her distress, Talia may have forgotten to report that one. She shakes her head, then leans forward, cradling her skull in her hands. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she murmurs to the floor. Then, looking up at Harris, she says, “Amanda Reade.Shewas the one who—”
“We’re not convinced that Amanda Reade is still alive.”
“What?” Talia’s heart climbs into her throat.
“We think Meera may be responsible for killing her.”
Talia opens her mouth, but no words come out. She tries again, and a single word escapes: “Why?”
Feeling more numb than ever, Talia listens as Detective Harris walks her through the chain of events that led them to this conclusion. It isn’t a surprise when she’s told that Meera crossed paths with Townsend years before Talia met him herself—she knew this much, at least—but when Harris mentions a summer romance, her jaw drops open in shock.
“There’s no way Meera and Townsend ever hooked up. She would have told me.Hewould have told me. Plus, she hates him.”
“Well, it sounds like things didn’t end well between them,” Harris says, “which is probably the reasonwhyshe hates him. And why she’s been obsessed with him all this time.”
Talia’s temples throb. “I think I will take that water, actually.”
After Harris sticks her head into the hallway to request a bottle of water, she joins Talia back at the table, where she continues to outline her evidence. The IP address from some of the threatening emails matches Meera’s work laptop, she explains. And during their search of Meera’s house, they found a black-and-white modeling shot of a topless Amanda—the eyes gouged out with a knife—hidden under Meera’sbed. Their theory: Meera killed Amanda in a crime of passion and used her as a scapegoat during her campaign of harassment, all in the hopes of getting Talia to break up with Townsend.
“This is ridiculous.” Talia squeezes the plastic bottle in her hand so hard that it folds in half with a loud crunch. “Meera isn’t capable of any of this. She’s my best friend. She can’t be a killer.”
“Obsession can drive a person to do things they’d never imagined themselves capable of,” says Harris. “Especially if they believe they’ve been wronged.”
“But ... how could she have been posing as a stalker all this time? And why would she pretend that Amanda was still alive?”
“To cover her tracks.” Harris gives a wry half smile. “You can’t be accused of murder if no one knows the victim is dead.”
A tingle races down Talia’s spine. Looking back, it’s shocking how her best friend so perfectly fits the role of suspect. “The texts, the emails, the tires, the sticky note, the dead bat—almost every time I found some new threat, Meera was right there next to me,” she says. Thinking out loud helps; Talia can see the puzzle pieces sliding into place, creating an image she doesn’t like but that at least makes sense. “And those photos Meera received of Gracie playing in the park? Those could have easily been faked.” She pauses, almost afraid to ask her next question: “What’s going to happen to her?”
“Well.” Harris interlaces her fingers. “Until we can find a body, we don’t have enough evidence to make an arrest.”
“So Meera is just running free right now?”
“We sent officers by her house an hour ago. She isn’t there, and her ex-husband and daughter haven’t seen her either. We think she may be hiding.”
“Oh, my God.” Talia buries her face in her hands again.
“We just need you to lay low. We’ll continue our search, and we’ll be checking in on you along the way. You and Townsend both.”
Talia perks up a bit at the sound of his name. “Can I see him now? Townsend?”
“I can check to see if Detective Burrows is finished speaking with him.” Harris stands. “You stay safe, okay?”
As unsettled as she feels, Talia knows this: She’ll always feel so safe, so long as Townsend is by her side.
Later that night, they sit on Townsend’s living room couch, both still shaken from their visit to the police station. But while Talia is eager to talk, to act—it’s been Meera all along! They need to get away from her!—her fiancé seems reluctant to even meet her eye.
“Are we really just going to stay here?” Talia finally asks. “Like sitting ducks?”
“We haven’t slept,” he says. “Before we do anything, I think we need to get some sleep.”
