Page 72 of Darkwater Lane
That’s not what the police think. Gutierrez is probably already convening a grand jury to bring charges against him.
I drop my head into my hands as a sense of despair washes over me. This has all become so much larger and more complicated than before. It doesn’t just paint Sam as a killer, it makes him look like a serial killer.
I feel sick to my stomach.
I can’t just sit on this information. There’s a serial killer out there. I need to tell the FBI so they can track this guy down before he kills again. But as Kez noted last night, Sam and I will be their first suspects.
Sam will be screwed. Unless I can give them someone else.
I immediately think of Rowan.
Someone would need access to Sam’s flight schedule to set him up like this. Rowan’s a hacker. She could have easily broken into his company files.
Unless she found a way into our system instead. If she gained access to our network, she would have known exactly when Sam was flying, and where. She also could have hacked our security system.
My stomach churns, anxiety threading through my veins. I text Taylor. She’d been the one to set up our system in the first place, putting in the firewalls and VPNs to keep our data secure. But what if there was a gap somewhere?
Gwen
Can you run a check on our computer system?
She answers instantly—I’m pretty sure she never sleeps either.
Taylor
Sure. Any particular reason why?
Gwen
I think someone accessed Sam’s flight schedule. I’m trying to figure out if the breach was on the work end or our end.
Taylor
On it. Report back soon.
As she works, I stare at the photo of Melvin’s grave. His bones tie everything together. If I can figure out who robbed his grave, I can figure out who killed all the sickos and who’s setting Sam up to take the fall.
There’s so much about this I don’t understand, but one question keeps getting stuck in my head: Why Sam? Someone has gone to huge, elaborate lengths to set him up. Why? Clearly, they want him to suffer. It has to be personal.
Again, I think about Rowan and her rage at Sam for what she considers to be him abandoning his sister by sleeping with the enemy. It’s inconceivable that someone could channel so much energy into revenge. It never brings closure or absolution. It won’t bring Callie back.
It only turns her into a killer. Into the exact kind of monster Melvin Royal was.
What a fucking waste.
20
GWEN
I agree to meet Madison later that morning for another recording session. Before I leave, I check on the kids, though there’s really no reason. Both are still asleep. I should probably institute a schedule akin to normal school hours but given everything they’ve been through, I’m willing to let it slide.
I send a text on the family chat, letting them know where I’ll be, then make sure the alarm is armed before walking up the hill to Madison’s rental. The upside to her being so close is that it will be easy to keep an eye on the house.
Inside, she has a fire going in the old cast-iron stove, which gives the air a tinge of woodsmoke. The room is warm, cheery, and inviting. I follow her into the kitchen, where she has coffee waiting. Her equipment is set up on the kitchen table: her laptop and two large microphones waiting.
While she runs sound checks through her laptop, I stare at the mic in front of me. I try not to think about that morning atThe Howie Hamlin Show, staring into that camera lens, a growing sense of anxiety gnawing inside me.
At least this time I’m not being broadcast live. Madison hasagreed that I’ll retain all the recordings we make. At the end of each session, I’ll watch while she copies them onto a USB drive for me and deletes the original files.
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