LILA ALLEN.
Eleanor went still.
“You mean—” Her voice caught. “Lila Grant… was Lila Allen.”
Deck didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
A cold realization slid through her.
“She’s related to the missing woman,” Eleanor said slowly. “Her cousin.”
Her breath hitched as the rest slammed into place.
“The Charleston case…” She shook her head once. “I defended her husband.”
Silence.
“Oh my God.”
She looked at Deck, something breaking loose behind her eyes.
“That’s why,” she said. “That’s why she’s been after me. Then. Now.”
Deck leaned back in his chair.
“The name before Grant.”
She looked from the paper to him.
“How long have you known?”
He held her gaze.
“Suspected? Since I went back to Charleston.”
The words landed like a slap.
“Charleston?”
“Aye.”
“You knew?”
“I knew there was a connection. I didn’t know how much of one until then.”
Eleanor shoved the folder back toward him.
“You knew there was a connection and didn’t tell me?”
“Ellie—”
“No.” She stood so fast the chair legs scraped hard against the floor. “No, don’t Ellie me. You let me sit in a courtroom with her. You let me think she was just another podcaster chasing attention.”
“Not like this.”
Deck didn’t move.
