I leave the hospital and go to the police station. Detective Fuller is in the conference room and looks up at me in surprise when I walk in.

“Hey,” he says. “I was just about to call you.”

“You were?” I ask.

“Marshall Powell’s phone records came in.” He picks up a stack of papers from the desk and hands it over to me. “It doesn’t look like he talked to anyone the night he was attacked. Other than the 911 call, he didn’t make or receive any calls or send or receive any texts for at least six hours. And before that, there was a message from Carla asking if he wanted her to make pasta for dinner.”

It reminds me of what Ander said about losing Sabrina and the little things that wouldn’t happen anymore, like talking about what they were going to have for dinner. The thought makes the back of my neck tingle. I’m convinced Carla wasn’t involved with Ander, but there’s still something that isn’t fitting together.

Crime scene pictures of the threatening messages on the walls of Gideon and Sabrina’s homes are sitting on the table, and I stare down at them. I started this investigation so focused on the threats and what kind of entity might have wanted to not only send them but act on them. But now my feelings have shifted. This feels personal. Without any group or fanatical person claiming responsibility for the crimes, the threats feel random and almost arbitrary. There’s no real reasoning for who got them and what they say.

I start to sift through the phone records, noticing that Marshall seems like one of those people who doesn’t use his phone very often. Carla’s number appears over and over with a few others scattered in the list. I’ve gone back a few pages when a number pops out at me. It’s there only once, and it says the call lasted less than five seconds, but I can’t take my eyes off it. I recognize that number. I’ve dialed it, and it has shown up on my phone screen.

Jesse Kristoff.

I look at the date of the call and realize it is a few weeks before the first reports of the threats came in. I think back on the conversation I had with Marshall and Carla right after Gideon died when they told me that they were preparing for a big move—plans that had been just getting started right before this all started. I can’t prove it just from this, but I know in my gut, I was right—I just had the wrong person.

Grabbing that sheet from the records and shoving it into my bag with the rest of my notes, I start out of the conference room.

“You’re leaving already?” Detective Fuller asks. “You just got here.”

“I know,” I say. “But there’s something I have to do.”

For the second time today, I make the drive to the hospital and park in the main entrance lot. I jog to the door and hop on the elevator to get to Marshall’s floor. The door to his room is closed when I get there, so I knock, and he calls out for me to come in. There’s a doctor standing alongside Carla by the side of the bed, and she looks annoyed at the interruption.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

“This is Agent Griffin. She’s the FBI agent investigating my case,” Marshall explains.

“This is really going to have to wait. We’re discussing some important issues about Mr. Powell’s condition and preparing to run some additional tests,” she says.

“That’s fine,” I tell her. “I just need to have a word with Carla.”

Carla looks surprised. She glances at Marshall, who nods.

“It’s all right. Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere,” he says.

Carla gives him a little smile and leans down to kiss him again.

“I’ll be right back.”

She follows me out of the room, and I lead her directly back to the alcove where we talked earlier.

“Are you here to accuse me of something else?” she asks bitterly.

I ignore the swipe and hold out my hand. “Can I have your phone please?”

“My phone?” she asks. “Why do you need my phone?”

“Information has just come to light, and I need to make a comparison,” I say.

“I don’t have to give it to you,” she says.

“No, you don’t. But I’ll just get a warrant and look through your phone records. Or you could save me a lot of time and hassle in trying to find out what happened to your husband and just give me the phone,” I say.

“What are you looking for?” she asks, taking the phone out of her pocket and handing it over to me.

“I want to see just how many times you’ve called a certain phone number.”

Her hand comes down over the phone in my hand as she lets out a heavy breath. I look into her face and see tears in her eyes.

“You don’t need to look,” she says. “I’ve erased all the times his number was on my phone. And all the texts.”

“Whose number, Carla?” I ask, needing to hear her say it to confirm my suspicions are correct.

“Jesse Kristoff,” she admits.

I let out an exasperated sound as I slam the phone back into her hand.

“So you stand there, right in front of me, and act like you are so deeply offended by the suggestion that you are having an affair with Ander Ward, only for me to find out you’re actually sleeping with Gideon Bell’s roommate,” I say. “How long has this been going on?”

“About a year,” she says. “Gideon brought him to a work party, and we talked. Then we ran into each other at the grocery store a couple days later and then again while we were jogging at the park. It was funny that we just kept seeing each other, and we decided to grab some coffee just to chat. We hit it off. I didn’t expect it to turn into anything. I really didn’t. It’s been over for a while.”

“I’m assuming since right around when his number showed up on Marshall’s phone records?” I ask.

She nods, a tear coming down her cheek. “Even before that, I was feeling really guilty about the affair and knew I couldn’t keep it up. Jesse was pushing for me to divorce Marshall and be with him, and I couldn’t see myself doing that. I don’t know how to make it make any more sense. It was just like a splash of cold water, bringing me into reality again. Then Marshall got suspicious. He saw the number on my phone before I was able to delete it and called it. I was able to explain it away, and I really think he believed me, but that was it for me. I couldn’t do it anymore.

“I told Jesse that the affair was over and I didn’t want to hear from him again. I asked him to respect that I was recommitting fully to my marriage and there was nothing he could say that would change my mind. Marshall had already started talking about the possibility of moving, and after that happened, I decided that was best. I told him I thought it was a great idea, and we really started planning. It brought us closer together than we’ve been in so long. We have been in a great place since then.”

“How could you not tell me about this?” I demand. “People are getting threats about being wicked and vile behavior, including you, and you didn’t think it might be important to tell me that you were having an affair?”

She presses the fingertips of one hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes closed as more tears flow out of them.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I really didn’t think that it was. I didn’t think that it could have any impact. If anything, I thought it would just confuse things and make it harder. Things were over between Jesse and me. We hadn’t spoken in weeks. He was really upset when I broke things off with him, and I insisted that we couldn’t even be friends. There was no way we could carry on being in each other’s lives anymore. So we cut each other off. Then when Gideon died, Jesse was attacked too. And so many people got the threats. I didn’t think my bad choices mattered. They didn’t have anything to do with it. Gideon wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“No, but he was about to turn in someone who was,” I say.