“Reyes said Brewer has been stalking us for months.” Laurel suddenly looked vaguely guilty. “But he left his laptop unlocked last night and I kind of helped myself to the files. Brewer’s been stalking us for at least nine months. His notes go back to September, but he might have been keeping tabs on us before that.”

  I did the math. Hoo boy. “He knows we were together.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She pressed her lips together.

  “Shit. Sac PD knows too, don’t they?”

  She nodded slowly, deliberately. “Yep.”

  “But they haven’t said anything to you?”

  “No. Not yet, at least.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. It might screw up a few cases.” She shrugged. “But up until the end, I did good work. Those convictions will hold.” She caught my eye and held it. “But I can’t, I don’t regret our relationship.”

  “So.” I waited.

  “So let’s use it,” she said.

  “How?”

  “Tell Grandma Brewer you were in a sexual relationship with me. Tell her it is enough to create doubt around her grandson’s case. If you can just talk to him, the two of you can clear his name and get revenge on me.”

  “You are a devious motherfucker, you know that?” I asked.

  “I’m aware.”

  “I don’t hate this plan. Except for the Rottweiler threat.”

  The faint scowl she’d been wearing since I saw her in the art gallery office lifted. “You’ll do it?”

  “Yes. But only to nail Henry. This doesn’t mean anything.”

  She nodded. “Okay. You don’t want to acknowledge that I’m still in love with you, that’s fine.”

  “See that wasn’t cool.” I pointed.

  She shrugged. “I won’t mention it again.”

  “And you have to be honest about everything Henry related.”

  “Done. I copied the files off Reyes’s computer. I’ll let you read them.”

  “I’m not talking about the very illegal file stealing, which I absolutely do want to read. I’m talking about whatever freaked Reyes out so much he’s got you living with him. I’m talking about the fact that Henry apparently stabbed you and you didn’t mention it.”

  She looked at her thigh. It wasn’t bleeding so it clearly wasn’t important. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”

  “Sure. Being stabbed isn’t worth mentioning. Just a regular Tuesday.”

  “It was a Thursday.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah, that’s the important detail.”

  “Okay, what do you want to know?”

  “Tell me about him trying to kill you. The actual injuries. I’m not working with you if I’m not aware of your physical limitations.”

  “Okay. I was hiking. He came up behind me and tried to strangle me with a piece of wire. I managed to get my hand up in time to get between the wire and my throat.” She held up her hand so I could see the bruising. “I threw my head back and probably broke his nose. He eased up long enough for me to break his grip on the wire. He slugged me in the face a couple of times.” She pointed at the bruising on her face.

  “And the stabbing?”

  “That’s when he pulled out a knife. A little guy. Only five inches or so.”

  “That’s not little.”

  “Whatever. I didn’t see him pull it out. So he throws a left hook to distract me and gets my thigh with the knife. I realize he’s seriously trying to kill me—”

  “You didn’t realize that before with the strangling?”

  “Well, yeah. But that requires some element of surprise and he’d lost that. With a knife you just have to get lucky.”

  “Lucky. Right.”

  “Anyway, he twists the knife and yanks it out. I go down. He kicks me a couple of times then gets on top of me. He stabs me again, but I roll to the side enough for him to get my shoulder instead of my chest, nail him in the balls, pull the knife out, and stick him in the side with it.” She extended two fingers and motioned like she was stabbing me in the ribs. She stopped an inch from touching me and I was briefly disappointed. “He falls over. Then I shove him off the path and down the side of the mountain.”

  “You shoved him off a mountain?” Dammit. That was hot.

  “There was another path below. It was only like twenty feet down.”

  “Cool.” I kind of hated myself for being impressed.

  “So then I picked my ass up. Tied my shirt around my leg. Saw his phone on the ground. Grabbed it and ran. You know the rest.”

  “You ran down a mountain after being stabbed in the thigh?”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice. Plus, I didn’t run down a whole mountain. I wasn’t far from the parking lot and there was cell reception. The rangers met me halfway. I probably only ran two miles. Adrenaline is a great drug.”

  “Totally. A couple days ago, I was helping Andy and Lane sand wood for the truck bed and I got a gnarly splinter. I pulled it out all on my own. Just grabbed the tweezers and yanked out that motherfucker.” I extended my right index finger so she could see the very serious red dot in the center of my finger pad. “I didn’t even feel the throbbing until afterward.”

  “Whoa. And you didn’t have to go to the hospital or anything?” She grabbed my hand and inspected the dot. Then realized she was holding my hand and abruptly dropped it.

  “Yeah.” I rubbed my hands together like that would remove her touch. “So I get adrenaline.”

  “Sounds like basically the same thing.”

  “Okay, when do we want to go manipulate old lady Brewer?”

  “As soon as possible. She’s in Camino. She’s isolated, but not too far out. There’s a fire access road behind her property. I can monitor your conversation from there. The recording won’t be admissible in court, but I no longer care about that.”

  “You’re going to wire me?”

  “Of course. I’m not going to risk your safety.”

  Right. Because she was in love with me. “What if Henry is following us?”

  “That’s the part I’m not sure about. I can’t figure out how he’s keeping tabs on both of us. And I can’t shake him if we don’t know how he’s tracking us. In fact, I should leave soon. He’s probably watching your place right now. The longer I stay, the less he will believe that you want to crucify me.”

  “So we need to figure out how he’s stalking us, but we need to do it without being seen together?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Can you send me the files you took from Reyes? We can FaceTime once I look them over. Unless you think he’s tracking us digitally.”

  She shook her head. “Digital Forensics already checked all my electronics. Brika is confident Brewer’s not cyber stalking me. Reyes said they were going to check you out too.”

  I nodded. “He texted earlier and asked me to call him.”

  “Okay, so have Sac PD clear your computer and phone. Text me if you’re clear and I’ll email the files.”

  “And right now I need to make a show of throwing you out?”

  “The louder the better.”

  “Screaming match. Got it.”

  “According to his psych profile, his misogyny is deeply rooted. He thinks women are inferior and likely connects masculine gender presentation with superiority.”

  “That’s why he and I always got along. I was the right kind of chick.”

  “Right. And the wrong kind—anyone challenging his masculinity—is an object to be used either sexually or emotionally or physically.”

  “Aside from telling you my problems and asking you to take on my emotional labor in the middle of the street, I’m not really sure how to demonstrate that.”

  “You could just get physically violent with me. It’ll show him that you’ve evolved.”

  “Well, that’s not great.”

  “It’ll be fine. Just shove me. I’ll stumble. You’ll shout. No big. And it will assert your masculinity and physical superiority. He will eat it right up.”

  “I get what you’re saying. I’m just not sure it will work. First, you’re equally masc. Second, I’m not remotely physically superior. And finally, I feel super uncomfortable assaulting you. I like to play to my strengths and I’m not good at assault.”

  “Those are fair points.”

  “I will, however, forcefully grab your arm and walk you to your car.”

  “I like it. Secret chivalry masquerading as violence.”

  “That’s me.”

  She carefully scooted Nickels off her lap. Nickels appeared quite inconvenienced by this shift. Laurel stood and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Right arm, if you don’t mind. I pulled out a couple stitches on Monday and Reyes is still fussy about it.”

  “Yeah, he’s super unreasonable, that guy,” I said. We walked to the door. I took a deep breath. “Ready?”

  “Call Reyes as soon as I’m gone, okay?”

  “You got it.” Standing in her space was doing obnoxious things to my central nervous system. It seemed to think we should be doing something other than throwing her out. I cupped her right arm and flung open the door.

  “Jesus fucking Christ. I’m leaving okay.” Laurel made a show of trying to yank her arm out of my grip.

  “Not fast enough.” I pulled her outside and she stumbled.

  “You are such a dick, you know that?”

  “I’m aware.” I dragged her down the steps.

  The uniform climbed out of his cruiser. “Everything okay, ladies?”

  “It’s fine,” I said.

  “Fucking fantastic.” Laurel jerked her arm out of my grasp.

  I pointed to her truck. “Leave.”

  “I’m going.”

  I shoved her lightly. “Not fast enough.”

  “If you’d stop manhandling me, I could go faster.”

  “If you left my house when I told you to, I wouldn’t have to manhandle you,” I shouted.

  “Whatever.” She backed away, still making eye contact.

  I turned and stomped back inside. I slammed the door as Laurel started her truck up. The sound threw me back a year and I thoroughly did not appreciate it.

  Chapter Nine

  I’d bullied Lane into attending some sorority event for her own good. She needed to get out. Encouraging her to go had nothing to do with the FaceTime call I had scheduled with her sister. Absolutely nothing. Just like the extra ten minutes I spent making my hair into a casually unkempt quiff instead of a constructed pomp so I would look good, but not like I tried to look good.

  I was stretched out on my bed with a harem of pillows behind me and my inconstant cat at my feet. While I waited for Laurel to call me, I read through the files she had emailed an hour before. They were mostly unfiltered notes from Henry’s iCloud account. Detailed notes.

  CB, 2/07, 10 a.m. Drinks coffee on back deck with Robin Ward.

  CB, 2/07, 11:30 a.m. Nate Xiao picks CB up.

  CB, 2/07, 11:45 a.m.–12:30 p.m. CB and Nate meet Jerome St. Maris at Old Soul.

  CB, 2/07, 1:00 p.m. Nate drops CB at home.

  CB, 2/07, 5:45 p.m. Drives to CSU Sacramento. Picks up Lane Kallen.

  CB, 2/07 6:15 p.m. CB and Lane return home and stay for remainder of evening.

  Turns out reading boring, detailed notes about your own movements on days you barely even remember is disturbing as fuck.

  FaceTime popped up to let me know Laurel was calling. I answered.

  “Hey, your computer passed inspection too?” At Laurel’s voice, Nickels raised her head.

  “Yep. But after reading some of these notes, I kinda wish it didn’t,” I said.

  “It’s creepy as hell, right?”

  “Creepy is an understatement.”

  Nickels stood and stretched. She walked up and stuck her head around the computer to find the source of Laurel’s voice.

  Laurel grinned when Nickels’s face filled her screen. “Hey, Nickels. How’s my favorite girl?”

  Nickels meowed and hit the screen with her paw.

  “Whoa there.” I pushed her paws off the computer.

  “Aww, she missed me.”

  I deserved some sort of award for not saying I did too. Or calling her a dick for leaving me. “Apparently.” When I wouldn’t let the cat continue to bat at the screen, she sprawled dramatically at my side.

  “So how much have you read?” Laurel adjusted her laptop and I got a glimpse of Reyes’s IKEA bachelor living room. I also got a look at her full outfit. She was wearing salmon colored cutoff chinos with another paper thin V-neck. And in my expert lesbian opinion she wasn’t wearing a bra, which seemed very unfair to me, specifically.

  “Not much. Just what I did in February.”

  “Did you read the list I created with dates?”

  I opened the folder she’d sent. One document was labeled Chronology. That seemed promising. “Chronology?”

  “Yeah.”

  I opened it. It was a list of dates starting September eighth and ending last Friday. It was filled out through the end of September. “What am I looking at?”

  “He’s got separate notes for each of us. In September we were in the same city so there’s a lot of overlap. When you get to November, we were in different cities, but he’s still got detailed notes on both of our movements.”

  “How did he know where you were?”

  “Not sure. That’s what we have to find out. He documented me driving to Marin, which presents more questions than answers.”

  “So we’re just going through to figure out how he’s watching us?”

  “Basically, yeah. Did he have an accomplice? He’s not tracking us digitally, but what if he’s tracking our vehicles? Does he have access to our bank accounts? Maybe he’s using cameras? If so, where are they?”

  “Got it. So the day I read in February, he knew when I was in the backyard and when I left the house, but there was no information about what I was doing inside,” I said.

  “Which means he’s got a sightline into your backyard, but not your house.”

  “He also knew Nate picked me up and that we met Jerome for coffee. And that I went to pick up Lane at Sac State in the evening.”

  “If he was physically present, he could have watched the backyard, followed you and Nate, seen you with Jerome, followed you and Lane,” she said.

  “Or if he had an accomplice, they could have done all that.”

  “Now we need to look at what I did that day. What was the date?”

  “The seventh.”

  Laurel nodded and started clicking. I opened the appropriate file and started reading.

  LK, 2/07, 7:30 a.m. LK goes to Stinson Beach.

  LK, 2/07, 8:00 a.m. LK runs Mount Tamalpais.

  LK, 2/07, 10:25 a.m. Returns to Liam Salvi’s house.

  LK, 2/07, 11:00 a.m. Arrives at Corte Madera CHP Office.

  LK, 2/07, 12:30 p.m. LK and Sergeant Moira meet for lunch at Cafe Cormorant.

  LK, 2/07, 2:00 p.m.–5:30 p.m. Returns to Corte Madera CHP Office.

  LK, 2/07, 6:15 p.m. Arrives at Mill Valley Clinic.

  LK, 2/07, 7:15 p.m. Returns to Salvi’s house. Stays for reminder of evening.

  I finished reading and watched her read. The blue of her eyes was muted in the low light. The bruises under her eyes disappeared in shadow, making her look haunted. As she read she chewed the inside of her lip. It was a movement I’d never noticed before.

  “I don’t remember this at all. It could have been any one of a number of days,” she said.

  “Which I think begs the most important question.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Why the hell would you spend two hours running up and down a mountain?”

  She fought a grin. “Shut up. My therapist wants me to do physical activity.”

  “Yeah, but there’s a massive difference between walking regularly and running up a mountain. And often enough that you’re like yeah, that could be any day.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I like it, okay? It’s pretty and challenging and it makes me feel good.”

  “Okay. Weirdo.”

  “I’m pretty sure all of this information could have been gathered from a tracker or something on my vehicle. The only exception is the trail run. I parked at Stinson so a tracker would just make it seem like I was on the beach for two hours.”

  “But he knew you went up the mountain instead of down the beach. So either he was there or he had a camera on you.”

  “Which matches the surveillance of you that day. He could have tracked you really easily with cameras. Backyard, front yard, and vehicle would cover it,” she said.

  “I was in Nate’s car that day.”

  “If he put a camera on both our cars, he could put one on Nate’s too.”

  “What about batteries and recordings?” I asked.

  “Theoretically, he could piggyback off the car battery. Recordings could automatically upload whenever in range of open Wi-Fi. And at your house he could totally use a neighbor’s power and Wi-Fi to operate those cameras. Wouldn’t be difficult. Illegal, but easy.” When she was pontificating about something she knew a lot about, her confidence was super hot. I found it quite distracting.

  “Wow. Really not feeling great about the ease of surveillance. Or your awareness of it,” I said.

  “It was my job to know these things.”

  “Thanks. That makes me feel lots better.”

  “Whatever.” She started clicking. She frowned in what I imagined was concentration. “We’ve got two image files for you that day. Do you see them?”

  “No. I didn’t know there were image files.”

  “There’s a file labeled Documentation. It’s organized by date.”

  I clicked back and opened the Documentation file. I scrolled until I found 02.07 CB 1 and 02.07 CB 2. “At least he’s super organized.” The CB files were followed by 02.07 LK 1 through 02.07 LK 5.

  “Somehow that doesn’t comfort me,” she said.

  “I’m trying to stay positive here.” I opened the CB files and saw myself on the back deck having coffee with Robin. The second photo was me standing next to Nate and shaking hands with Jerome.