She logged out, rushed back to the table, and popped a tater tot into her mouth.
The computer screen went dark just as the door opened. Fisk walked across the hall into the bedroom. Rae appeared in the doorway holding a box of Nice’n Easy hair color.
“That talk of wigs gave me an idea,” she said.
CALIFORNIA DEATH TRIP PODCAST:
SEASON ONE, EPISODE FOURTEEN
DYLAN DANVERS:Hi, crime fam, it’s Dylan. I’m still in my favorite motel room in Madera, California, as you can probably tell from the totally jacked audio. It sounds kind of like a prison cell, ironically. All this place is missing is the flashing neon sign outside the window. Anyway, an hour ago, I concluded a very interesting interview with Taylor Campbell, the daughter of Karl Campbell and the stepdaughter of Cara Campbell. Taylor has always refused to talk to me, so I’d pretty much given up hope—which is why I was so surprised when she contacted me out of the blue. What follows is the audio of our Zoom discussion, lightly edited for pacing and clarity.
[Theme music.]
DYLAN:Thank you for joining me, Taylor.
TAYLOR:I can’t believe I still have to talk about Cara Horowitz but here we are.
DYLAN:By Cara Horowitz, you’re referring to Cara Campbell, correct?
TAYLOR:I will never accept Campbell as her last name. She brainwashed my father into marrying her and then killed him when he had a blip in his finances. That woman is a world-class narcissist. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she plotted this whole escape business and is living it up on some tropical island with another wealthy man who has no idea what’s coming.
DYLAN:I’m going to push back on that. I saw the crash scene and what was left of the transport van. It’s hard to imagine anyone could have engineered such a horrific accident and expected to survive.
TAYLOR:You have to understand what kind of person she is in real life. She learned all the tricks of the trade from her mother, whospent a dozen years trying to convince a big real estate investor—whose name I won’t drag into this—to leave his family.
DYLAN:But when Cara’s mother died of cancer, she was single and penniless, right?
TAYLOR:Which was sad, of course. But Cara definitely played up the whole, I’m just a poor, pretty, orphan girl from the wrong side of Fairfax thing. I still can’t believe my dad fell for it and then let himself get dragged into her hustle. She would have worked him to death with her insatiable quest for fame if she hadn’t murdered him.
DYLAN:Does some of your resentment come from the fact that it’s hard to accept a stepmom who’s only five years older than you?
TAYLOR:Look, I grew up in Beverly Hills. That happened to half my friends. Why are you focusing on me instead of Cara Whore-owitz? Cara, if you’re still alive, turn yourself in, you murderous gold digger. You’re lucky you didn’t get the death penalty!
DYLAN:Even if we have different motives, I want to find her just as much as you do. The world needs to know she’s innocent.
TAYLOR:Ha! She’s not.
DAY FIVE
THIRTY-SEVEN
JORDAN
I told my husband I wanted a new car. Next thing you know, ads for cars start popping up everywhere. They are watching. They are listening.
—@JJM1234
His overheads flashing and siren wailing, Jordan put the pedal down, pushing his vehicle well over the fifty-mile-an-hour speed limit as he raced north on Highway 41. Vehicles were slow to move out of his way, forcing him to slalom in and out of oncoming traffic. At the crash site where Bree had broadsided Campbell’s transport van, he used the piercer siren to get the attention of rubberneckers who had slowed to gawk.
The debris littering the shoulder and the scorched earth were good reminders to slow down.
Instead, he sped up.
AJ Wen had called forty-five minutes ago to tell him, “We’ve got her.”
“In custody?” It was so sudden, he couldn’t quite believe it.
“We have a location and warrant. This morning, one of the techs monitoring her online accounts noticed that someone logged into her Instagram last night. We traced the IP address to Sugar Pine, which Google Maps tells me is?—”
