"You have to follow this through, Eva Rae," I commanded myself, trying to drown out the chaos swirling in my mind. “Youcan’t just sit back and let this killer, this cold-blooded murderer get away with it. Not on your watch!”
The implications of what I had uncovered unfurled before me like some grotesque tapestry, each thread woven from lies and betrayal. How could I have been so blind? As someone who constantly played with trust as part of my job, I should have known better than to gamble on those who were not worthy of it. But I had taken that risk and lost—drastically so.
"Never again," I whispered vehemently to the empty seat beside me.
A red traffic light loomed ahead, demanding a halt that I simply could not afford at this critical moment. Glancing left and right for any signs of life or movement—but finding none amidst the quiet hum—I tightened my grip on the steering wheel even further, steeling myself for what was about to come.
"Go."
I barreled through the intersection without hesitation, paying no heed to the red light glowing impotently in my rearview mirror. There was no turning back now, not when every second counted and every choice I made could be a matter of life or death.
"Damn it!" The curse erupted from me involuntarily as the full realization hit me—the evidence, the truth, it was all on me now. The killer thought they had covered their tracks so well, but they had underestimated one short, chubby redhead with a tenacity for digging deep into the darkest corners of any case.
"Matt… I know you want me home, but I have to finish this. I just hope you’ll understand."
Saying his name made me feel awful. I was supposed to come home to them today. I had promised them. Once again, I would be neglecting my family, choosing a case over them.
But how could I go home now?
That’s not who I am, and you know it, Matt.
I stared at my phone, wondering if I should call and tell him, but decided against it. He would be mad and try and talk me out of it. It was one more burden I couldn’t have on my shoulders. Not now. Not today. I would have to act now and apologize later. It was simply the way it had to be.
The road stretched before me like a murky path shrouded in uncertainty, but I would follow it regardless. I was driven by an unbreakable love for my children and a burning need to expose the rot at the core of this case that threatened to tear apart everything I held dear.
Chapter 29
THEN:
Angela's griptightened on the shopping cart handle, a single tomato rolling from its perch onto the tile floor. She barely glanced at it. The aisles blurred as she pushed through her grocery list with robotic efficiency, her mind churning. The small receipt she had found that morningwas on her mind. It was tucked away in Will's jacket—too casual, too careless. It revealed a dinner for two when he should have been working late.
"Paper or plastic?" the cashier's words cut through her reverie.
"Plastic," Angela snapped, quicker than intended. Her apology was a murmured afterthought. She looked for her wallet in her purse, then realized she had forgotten it at home.
“I’m sorry, she said. “I seem to have forgotten….”
“It’s okay,” the cashier said. “We’ll keep it here, and you can come back and get your groceries.”
“I won’t be long,” she said. “I don’t live far away.”
She abandoned the cart without the usual bags in hand, the automatic doors shuddering behind her. The drive home was ablur, her thoughts a louder companion than the radio's chatter. Suspicion gnawed at her, a relentless pest. She was supposed to go to lunch before grocery shopping, but Sam had canceled at the last minute. She was coming home early. It would give her more time to prepare the meal for tonight. She was making something special, Will’s favorite.
Roast and potatoes with gravy.
The turn into the driveway felt like crossing a threshold. Her pulse quickened; the steering wheel became slick under her palms. The car rolled to a stop, gravel crunching a finality that echoed in her chest.
Something was wrong. There was a car in the driveway that wasn’t supposed to be there. Her heart dropped when she saw it.
"Keep it together," she whispered.
Her breaths came fast, uneven. A neighbor waved. Angela managed a half-hearted smile before she turned, the weight of her discovery anchoring her to the spot for a heartbeat too long.
"Stay calm, it’s probably nothing. Don’t get in your head; you know how you get," she urged herself, stepping out of the car and into the unknown that was her own front yard. Her resolve deepened with every stride toward the house. She couldn’t lose her cool. She couldn’t jump to conclusions again. Her therapist had taught her how to handle her emotions when they got the better of her. Breathing techniques. Thinking of something pleasant, and don’t keep swirling around the same old thoughts of doom and betrayal.
So, she breathed. She took deep, long breaths and told herself it was nothing. Everything was fine. Of course, it was.
Each step up the pathway felt charged, a deliberate march toward impending doom. She did her best not to make it feel that way. She told herself it was her who was wrong. She was the crazy one.
