willing to flip on Sheriff Decker, and they’ve corroborated much of your story. You’re both in the clear for Harris, and based on the salvageable evidence where Pete’s body was found, the DA isn’t planning to charge you for his death either.”
All the air rushed from Todd’s lungs and he started to shake. He hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been holding it together.
Lindsey sighed, her shoulders dropping. Yesterday, circling the table to hug her would have been a no-brainer.
“What’s the not-good news?” he asked, trying to get his heart rate under control.
Wendy grimaced. “Megan Lassiter fled shortly after your escape yesterday. Passport control has a record of her driving through the Blaine-Surrey border crossing near Vancouver early this morning.”
“She’s in Canada?” Lindsey frowned and rubbed her forehead. “I guess that’s good. I thought if she got away she might come after us.”
“She still could,” Todd said.
Wendy sent him a what-the-hell look. “The money laundering scheme is already blown. You’re no longer a threat to her.”
“Maybe.” The tightness of Lindsey’s mouth told Todd she wasn’t convinced.
“Well, she’s a fugitive now,” Wendy said. “We’ll be monitoring for any activity. If she resurfaces, law enforcement will grab her. But, obviously, be careful until we have her in custody.”
“Be careful?” Todd repeated. “Does that mean you’re letting us go?”
“Soon. Give me another hour or two, and if you need anything, don’t go back to the corridor with the interrogation rooms, all right?”
He nodded.
Wendy’s phone buzzed and she pulled it from her pocket and then frowned at it. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”
Todd ran a hand through his hair and turned to Lindsey. “Holy shit. I’m not sure I believe it yet.”
“I know.” She braced her hands on her knees and took a shaky breath. “Thank God, though. I was so worried you were going to prison.” A tear streaked down her face.
“Hey.” Todd stood and rounded the table.
She held out her hand and shook her head. “Please, don’t.”
He stopped in his tracks.
The door opened and Wendy barged in, oblivious to the tension, her expression dark. “Lindsey, I need you to look at something for me.” She slapped a photo on the table. “Do you recognize this woman?”
“Yeah, that’s—” Lindsey frowned and peered closer. “Actually, no. At first glance she looks like Megan, but it’s not her.”
“Are you sure?” Wendy asked.
“Of course. I’ve known her for almost ten years.” Lindsey pointed to the picture. “This woman’s eyes are different, and something about her chin. I don’t know, but it’s definitely not Megan.” She glanced up, her brow furrowed. “Who is it?”
“That’s the woman who crossed the border with Megan’s passport.”
“Fuck,” Todd said. A decoy.
“Unfortunately, it gets worse.” Wendy cleared her throat. “Lindsey, one of your neighbors called the police this morning because someone vandalized your front door.”
“Vandalized how?”
“The picture’s pretty graphic.” Wendy unlocked her phone, tapping on the screen before setting it on the table.
Lindsey gasped and her face turned stark white.
Todd came around and bent over the table to view the photo. Motherfucker.
Someone had tacked a bloody piece of gray sweatshirt—like the one Pete had been wearing at the cabin—to the door with a hunting knife. Scrawled in thick, wet red letters beneath were the words: YOUR TURN.
The tremors started in Lindsey’s hands and radiated out until she trembled from head to toe.
Megan wasn’t in Canada; she was in California.
She’d been to Lindsey’s apartment.
Nausea climbed her throat as the panic set in. “I need to call my parents, warn them.”
“Sure, but they already know.”
“How?” Lindsey looked up at the blonde, even more grateful that she was a friend of Todd’s and not some random bureaucrat.
“When the property manager couldn’t get ahold of you, they called your emergency contact. Your dad got in touch with Kurt Steele, who I guess had sent him an update on your status yesterday, and Kurt passed it on to your lawyer.”
What a mess. “Can I call them?”
Wendy nodded. “I’ll get instructions on how to call out from here.”
Numb, all she could do was nod.
Half an hour later, after an exhausting, tear-filled conversation with her mom and dad, during which they’d ridden the high of her and Todd’s freedom and the low of Megan’s threat, Lindsey laid her head on her arms and closed her eyes.
Unable to convince her parents to leave town, she’d at least made them promise to stay with her aunt in Long Beach for a few days. She’d also suggested they quit answering their phones, since reporters kept calling for background on their stories.
Would her