His blood ran cold.
Toothpaste. A familiar pair of navy earrings he’d given to Maggie when she was sixteen. He turned over a torn photo and cursed. The other half of the picture taken from Polly’s house. The half with Maggie in it.
Connor joined him. “You found something?”
“This is the stuff that was stolen from Maggie.”
At the bottom of the box, he pulled out stapled papers.
He frowned. Opal Sinclair’s autopsy report. Why the hell did she have this?
Rohypnolwas highlighted.Drowningwas also highlighted. Then a little note next to it—anti-psychosis drugs?
Connor reached in and pulled out the newspaper clippings at the bottom of the box. This time, the location where Opal’s body had been found was highlighted.
Connor looked at him. “You don’t think?—”
“She’s going to recreate her mother’s death, but with Maggie.” That’s why she’d left the note. Nel wanted it to look like a suicide.
His world narrowed.
He dropped the papers and ran, sprinting out of the house and toward his truck. They’d already be at the river. He just had to pray he got there in time to save her.
32
Maggie twisted and tugged at the bindings.
Come on, come on, come on.
She glanced at the bank. They were so far out now, and they were coming into the faster-moving part of the water.
Nel uncapped the syringe. “Ready?”
“Even if you kill me, you won’t get my life. You won’t get Ethan. He loves me, he’s not going to just move on with another woman the second I’m dead. And you won’t get Polly. She doesn’t trust easily. She only trustsmebecause we’ve been best friends since we were kids.”
Nel’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I’m not good enough?”
“No, I?—”
“Ethan was perfectly happy with me on those first two dates! And Polly and I got along great until she heard I was dating Ethan. And I already have a better relationship with your aunt thanyoudo. I’ll live your life far better than you ever did.”
Nel lunged forward and drove the needle into Maggie’s arm.
Maggie screamed and twisted, the needle dislodging before the entire contents of the syringe had emptied. She kicked out, her heel slamming into the center of Nel’s chest. The otherwoman cried out and fell to the floor of the boat, making them rock violently.
Maggie yanked her wrists so hard her skin burned.
“You’re going to pay for that,” Nel growled, the boat rocking again as she pushed up from the deck.
Another ferocious jerk.
She was out.
Nel stood the same time Maggie lifted an oar and swung. The wood slammed into the side of her head, and Nel cried out as she fell, the top half of her body tipping out of the boat.
Maggie swung again, but before she connected, Nel turned and managed to grab the oar, shoving it back into Maggie. She fell backward, tripping over the seat, her head smacking the deck.
The world spun, and Maggie wasn’t sure if it was the hit to her head or the drugs, or maybe a combination of everything.
