to show Samara I’m compassionate and caring—and that maybe I can be as close to her as Joanna was.
“This whole tragedy has been terribly rough on me,” she admits, softening slightly. “And there are times when I’m overwhelmed with grief, like Mr. Harris.”
Is Michael truly overwhelmed with grief? The blowout with Travis was the first time I’d seen him lose control since we heard the news—but that was anger, not sadness.
“There’s only one thought that gets me through each day,” she continues, standing on a chair to reach the highest shelf. “One thing that keeps me going.”
“What’s that?” I ask, because I know she expects me to.
“Joanna won’t be alone long. Everyone dies someday.” She glances at me, and the malice in her eyes makes me rest my hand against the swell of my belly. “Everyone—including you.”
DETECTIVE SHAW
Friday.
Patel’s deadline for arresting Michael Harris.
Thankfully, he’s decided to hold off. He can no longer deny that there are too many wild cards in this case. Too many things we need to take into account. Mandy McKnight’s revelation about Travis and Joanna’s affair. The strange brevity of the texts between them. The possibility that Dean might’ve been having an affair with Joanna, too. Michael’s name should top the suspect list, but there are other moving parts to this puzzle.
“We’ll know more Sunday,” Patel decided. “After the toxicology report comes back.”
He’s banking on the fact that a large amount of Vicodin and Valium will show up in Joanna Harris’s bloodstream. If that happens, it’ll be difficult not to think Harris had something to do with his wife’s murder. But if Patel’s wrong, and the test shows she’s clean, what conclusion will he draw next? Will he still believe Joanna was killed by her husband? I’m not sure.
Personally, I’m not surprised to hear about their extramarital activities. I knew the Harrises were hiding things—doesn’t everyone?—and now their secrets are coming to light.
I’ve spent the last forty-eight hours turning my attention from Joanna’s husband to Travis and Dean. Although we don’t have concrete evidence showing that Dean and Joanna were having an affair, the tug in my gut warns me that Dean and Joanna’s relationship was more than platonic. We’ve received court orders to release their phone records too. All Patel needed was to prove that their phone records were relevant and material to our investigation. It wasn’t difficult to do. And now we’ve put tails on both of them. It’s critical to the investigation that they don’t know we’re closing in. We want both men to proceed with everything as normal, so when they slip—and eventually, they all do—we’ve got them.
Rolling my chair closer to my desk, I shake the computer mouse to bring the desktop to life, and open windows that’ll reveal the phone carrier information once more. I create one segment for each of the twisted personalities on that street: Michael, Dean, Travis, Rachael, and Joanna.
With a frustrated sigh, I rest my head in my hands and go over the information again. And again.
Phone calls or texts between Dean Lewis and Joanna Harris are nonexistent. All contact with the chef was made through Michael’s phone. Looks like Dean was another aspect of Joanna’s life Harris controlled—or attempted to. Likewise, there are no calls between Travis and Joanna. But we knew that already.
I must be missing something.
Tapping my fingers against the mouse, I scan the text messages between Joanna and Travis.
Would you and Michael like to come over next weekend?
Are you and Michael planning on attending the conference in Seattle?
What was so important about those trivial questions? I double-check the time stamps.
An idea sparks.
Rather than studying texts from Joanna and Travis, I turn my attention to those between Travis and his wife. I note the days Rachael told him she had to work late. At least once a week for the entire length of the spring season, there was