Little Secrets - Jennifer Hillier Page 0,93

check this morning because I saw the Facebook post McKenzie’s roommate made, and I wanted a quick way to verify where Derek was, in the chance that they might be together. But they weren’t, because he was with you.”

“That’s right.” Marin is hesitant. She can’t seem to figure out where the PI is going with this, and she’s still trying to process that the woman thinks Derek’s mistress—former mistress—is missing.

And what exactly does she mean by missing? Missing as in McKenzie took off, didn’t feel like telling anyone, and no one can verify where she is? Or missing like she’s dead in a ditch somewhere, because Julian got to her before Sal could get to him?

“Derek has been with me,” Marin says. “We’ve been … working on things.” She takes another breath. “Are you thinking he had something to do with—”

“No, no,” Castro says, and her voice sounds more present. “Not at all. But with McKenzie missing, this makes two people in your husband’s life that have disappeared. Which makes him the common denominator.”

“Oh.” Marin hadn’t thought about it that way at all. “Right. So, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it. One person in Derek’s life suddenly gone is one thing. Two is…” Castro’s voice trails off again, and Marin wonders whether she’s in her office, or at home, or in her car. “Did you by chance download the Shadow app onto your phone? I’m pretty sure I put a note in the file about it.”

“I did.” Marin forces herself to speak normally.

“Have you been keeping up with their text communications?” Castro asks, which is a polite way of saying, Have you been spying on your husband and his lover?

Marin is gripping the phone so hard, her knuckles are turning white. Everything about this conversation is freaking her out. She was clear with Sal about wanting it called off, and her best friend had assured her it would be done. So what the hell happened? Was she too late? At the diner, Julian said nothing would happen right away, that he would wait a few weeks in order to create distance between their conversation and the actual event. It’s been less than a week. He can’t have done anything to McKenzie so soon.

Unless … Julian saw an opportunity. Unless he saw that she and Derek were away, giving Marin—and, by extension, Derek—the perfect alibi. And it really is perfect. Nobody would ever suspect them. The Machados spent the weekend in Whistler, over two hundred miles away, with dozens of witnesses and an Instagram account documenting—and geotagging—all the highlights of their trip.

“Did the texts say anything that alluded to McKenzie going away?”

“Not that I recall.” Marin’s mind is going in seven different directions. She’s trying to remember the specifics of what the texts said, while trying to remember what she said to Sal and what he said to her, while also trying to figure out where Vanessa Castro is going with it all. She needs to stay one step ahead here, because it’s true that Derek is the common denominator. There are two important people in his life who have disappeared. One is his child. The other is his lover.

But Castro seems to be forgetting that Marin is the other common denominator. Sebastian is also her child, and she recently learned that McKenzie was having an affair with her husband.

Jesus Christ. What if Sal didn’t call it off in time? What if he reached out to Julian but the deed was already done? What if McKenzie Li is dead because of … timing?

What if she’s dead because of Marin?

What the hell did she do?

Of course she can’t tell Castro any of this. The PI is a former cop, and while she seems to toe the line between what’s legal and what’s not, she’d have Marin arrested for sure.

McKenzie cannot be dead. It has to be a coincidence. She’s young, flighty, impulsive. She probably took off and forgot to tell people. Right?

“Marin?” Castro says, and Marin realizes that the woman has asked her a question and is waiting for an answer.

“The last text I saw was before we left for Whistler.” She swallows, grateful they’re not face-to-face and that the PI can’t see her trying to compose herself.

“Would you mind sending the texts to me?” She can hear the scratching of Castro’s pen. She must be making notes. “Take screenshots and text them to my cell?”

“I can’t. I deleted the app, and when I did, it deleted

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