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When I see which one he offered, I nod in satisfaction. It’s an early solo hit, and it’s perfect for Isabella. A gorgeous tribute to a strong and capable woman and, quite possibly, my personal favorite of his. I can’t help turning on the volume as I hit Play.

As the song begins, his rich voice starts soft, quiet words of respect and admiration beautifully underlaid with aching love, a classic admired-from-afar love song and…

Holy shit.

I blink, rewind and close my eyes as Justice’s voice wafts from the tinny speaker. Then I hit Stop, grab my phone and r edial the number of Isabella’s secret lover. It goes straight to the answering message.

It’s Justice’s voice. That’s why it sounded familiar. Because I knew it from a very long time ago.

Isabella’s secret lover is Justice Kane?

That doesn’t make sense. I listen to the song again, a heart-wrenching love letter to a woman who just happens to fit Isabella Morales to a tee.

He’d offered this song for her memorial video on a small fan-run site unlikely to attract the attention of anyone who might put two and two together. A quiet public proclamation of love.

Justice had sent me that message of support all those years ago. And the texts from Isabella’s mystery lover very clearly suggested he supported me.

So why am I doubting the connection? Because in my mind, Justice Kane is a boy that Isabella tried to set me up with. A young family friend she’d invited to her anniversary party for me .

Except Justice hadn’t been a “boy.” He’d been twenty-one. He wrote this song ten years ago when he clearly wasn’t dating the woman in it. They must have gotten together later as the age difference grew less significant.

Justice Kane and Isabella Morales.

Holy shit.

My phone vibrates. It’s PCTracy. I’m about to tell him what I’ve learned. Then I stop myself. This was Isabella’s secret, hers and Justice’s, and neither of them deserves my betrayal.

PCTracy: Got something for you. I’ve confirmed Colt’s destination that night. New Haven, Connecticut. He landed at 10:10 p.m., which would get him to NYC around midnight.

LlamaGirl: Damn.

PCTracy: I know you aren’t ready to meet in person, so I’m NOT pestering about that. But have we reached the point where I can ask for your full story? It will really help.

LlamaGirl: You mean what happened to me 14 years ago?

PCTracy: That is up to you. If it relates to this, then tell me whatever you’re comfortable with. I mean the night of Isabella’s death, though. What really happened.

It takes a moment to realize I still haven’t shared that. Without knowing my side of the story, he’s blindfolded, feeling his way through the situation.

LlamaGirl: It will help to understand the beach party incident because it launched everything. That’s awkward for me, though.

PCTracy: No judgment here. To me, it’s data. You slept with a movie star when you were eighteen. That’s public record. What matters is that the affair led to you being in NYC to meet with Isabella, which led to her death.

LlamaGirl: The public record is wrong. I didn’t have sex with Colt. I know that doesn’t matter in the larger scheme of things, but it matters to me.

PCTracy: Did Isabella know the truth?

LlamaGirl: I told her in a letter fourteen years ago. She never read it. So she first heard it Sunday.

PCTracy: Then it IS significant. For now, just tell me whatever you’re comfortable with.

I do. When I finish my story, there’s no answer for so long that I wonder whether he’s declared me delusional and signed off.

PCTracy: So you’re saying nothing happened before that night, during which Colt Gordon got you drunk – possibly doped you – and spirited you off to a hot tub, where he planned to seduce you, whether you wanted it or not?

LlamaGirl: I’m sorry I mentioned it. Rewind. We’ll go with “I slept with a movie star.”

PCTracy: What?

PCTracy: Damn it. I just reread what I wrote. Tone. That’s what we’re missing here, and why it would be better to meet. That wasn’t skepticism, L. It was outrage. You WERE assaulted in that hot tub.

LlamaGirl: I don’t see it that way. I was an adult. I made choices. Bad ones.

PCTracy: Okay. We’re stepping into a quagmire, one I have no right to enter. Short version is that Isabella discovered the truth of that night. Did she think Colt was at fault for what happened?

LlamaGirl: Yes. She would agree with your interpretation. I told her I didn’t, and we agreed to disagree.

PCTracy: And then?

I tell him about Isabella’s plan to go public and my reaction.

PCTracy: I hate to say this, because you liked Isabella, but it could have been a ploy to get back in the spotlight. Her career suffered because of the scandal, and I wouldn’t otherwise begrudge her the chance to get it back. Not at your expense, though.

LlamaGirl: I don’t think she was actively planning that, but yes, it would have given her attention.

PCTracy: It could also have been about revenge. Getting back at Colt.

LlamaGirl: I don’t think so. She wanted to remove him from our story. But yes, Colt would have taken it personally. Everything revolves around him. It’s possible he flew in to talk her out of it. They argued. She died.

PCTracy: Yep. So what happened after you agreed to lunch?

I take him through the morning of Isabella’s death. I include everything, even the fact that I have her phone and why. He knows some of this already from what I’d been okay telling him. Now he gets it all.

LlamaGirl: Taking the phone was stupid.

PCTracy: But understandable in context.

LlamaGirl: The police won’t see it that way.

PCTracy: That’s not giving them enough credit. The problem is that the police aren’t actually the ones you need to worry about.

LlamaGirl: It’s a jury, filled with people who won’t put themselves in my shoes, who will only think I made a stupid choice, and therefore it’s suspicious.

PCTracy: We’ll deal with that. For now, are you set for food?

LlamaGirl: LOL I am very set for food. I haven’t thanked you for that. It was incredibly considerate, and I appreciate it.

PCTracy: I just don’t want you having any reason to leave your room tonight. You’re safe there.

LlamaGirl: And here I will stay.