THE PATTERN COMPLETES
They lost the SUV on the highway.
Maya drove fast, weaving through traffic, taking exits at the last second. Danny watched the rear window. Kaela held her notebook, her knuckles white.
When they were finally clear, Maya pulled into a rest stop.
She sat in the driver’s seat, her hands shaking.
“He knows everything,” she said. “Where I live. Where I work. Where I hide.”
“Mom—”
“He knew about the listening device. He knew about Kaela’s hotel. He probably knew about Rachel’s apartment.”
“Then we can’t go back there.”
“I know.”
Maya stared at the road.
The pattern.
Three women dead. One missing. One targeted.
And now her.
The fifth victim.
She wasn’t chasing a story.
She was running from her own death.
“We need to go to the police,” Danny said. “Real police. Not Leah Park.”
“Who? Barrow Falls is a small city. Everyone knows everyone. If Leah is working with Vance, who else is?”
“The state police. The FBI. Someone outside Barrow Falls.”
Maya thought about it.
“If we go to the FBI with what we have—a reporter’s hunch, a missing woman’s journal, a fire that may or may not have been arson—they’ll laugh us out of the building.”
“Then we need more. Evidence. Proof.”
“What kind of proof?”
Kaela spoke. Her voice was quiet. But steady.
“He recorded us. Our sessions. He said it was for training purposes. For his students. He kept the recordings in a safe in his office.”
Maya’s heart raced. “The office that burned down.”
“He had a backup. At his house. He told me once. His home office. He said it was the only place he felt safe.”
Maya looked at Danny.
“You’re not going to like this.”
Danny sighed. “His house.”
“His house.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Danny closed her eyes.
“Of course tonight.”
Maya started the car.
They drove toward Barrow Falls.
And the black SUV followed.
Watching.
Waiting.