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CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

THE AKANAS

How many worst days can a person have in their lifetime?

Ken ponders this question as he paces down El Camino Real headed back to the motel. The campus police chief arranged for the room, which was paid for by the university. The chief said the move was to give Ken and Amy some privacy—to get them away from the press stationed outside their original hotel. But Ken suspects it’s also a precaution until the police take Bruce Lockwood into custody. Question him about stalking Amy, the tracker on the car, his whereabouts when Libby and her friends disappeared.

As a judge, Ken has presided over cases prosecuting stalkers. Most are cowards. Insecure little men. Or individuals with untreated mental illness. What’s always stood out to him is that they honestly don’t think what they are doing is wrong. That if they just try hard enough, their undying love will be reciprocated. But when they finally understand that isn’t the case, things can get dangerous.

Ken’s wearing the ridiculous baseball cap and sunglasses, the cheap disguise he bought at the convenience store, but a couple of students have their phones pointed at him. He’d better get back. He ducked out of the motel for a few minutes to get some air. The room is stifling. From the warm breeze blowing from the ancient air conditioner. From the heavy silence.

He makes it back to the motel parking lot, and the question chases after him: How many worst days can a person have? He’s had at least five. One, the day the doctor delivered Timmy’s cancer diagnosis. Two, the day Timmy took his last breath. Three, the day, last Friday, he and Amy pulled up to strobing police lights at Rancho San Antonio County Park. Four, Saturday, when the FBI gave its grim report that all signs pointed to foul play. Five, today, when Amy told him about the affair.

His blood curdles at the thought of the love of his life with another man. The thought of the man harassing Amy and her dealing with the threat on her own.

Something that can only be described as rage settles in his chest. But he needs to push it down. Remain calm. No drama. But maybe that’s what pushed Amy away. That he’d leaned too much into his No Drama Akana persona. No drama meant not having to face the devastation. By pushing down his bottomless grief over Timmy, he left Amy to bear hers alone.

He walks toward the staircase. The motel is like ones he’s seen in movies—two stories, with the rooms accessible from outside.

Before he heads up, he spots something unsettling. Something that makes him fear that today will be the sixth worst day of his life.

An F-150 truck in the parking lot. With an LA Police decal on the back window. The truck described in the BOLO for Bruce Lockwood.