I clear my mind, paying attention to my steady breaths as I imagine I’m back in the forest where we’d discovered the shack. Dense greenery, the scent of pine needles, the occasional sound of animals scurrying nearby. I focus my thoughts on the little girl in the Polaroid, pushing myself to remember the color of her eyes, the sound of her voice.

  Beyond the darkness of my eyelids, the forest eventually comes into view. Chills zip over my skin. I squeeze the hand firmly clasped inside mine and look up to see the young girl with a brown braid wearing a nightgown.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Lizzy,” she whispers.

  Footsteps pound the ground behind us.

  “He’s chasing us,” I wheeze, watching the forest stretch out before me with the clarity of a movie on a big screen. “There’s a woman there, too.”

  “What does she look like?” Noelle prods.

  “Her hair’s yellow…like the sun. Her eyes are as blue as the ocean.”

  “That’s good, Jo. You’re doing great.”

  “She’s holding a knife!” I whimper.

  “It’s okay, Jo. She can’t hurt you. Not anymore.”

  “She’s coming for him! She’s raising the knife into the air!”

  “This happened in the past, Jo. There’s no need to be afraid. Do you know the woman?”

  “Yes.” In the playback, the man moves away from the yellow-haired woman.

  A scream rips from my throat.

  “Okay, Jo,” Noelle says in a calm, firm tone. “Time to wake up now.”

  With a shudder, I open my eyes and look at my friend with desperation. I can’t comprehend what I just witnessed.

  “Who was that woman?” she whispers, reaching for my hand.

  With a mournful shake of my head, I hop off the couch and head for the door.

  “Talk to me, Jo!” Noelle pleads. “What did you see?”

  On my way to the clinic’s exit, I whiz past Rocco in the waiting room.

  “Jo, wait!” he calls after me, jogging to catch up before I’m able to reach the doors. “What happened in there?” He captures my elbow in his grasp. “Where are you going?”

  “My phone’s in the car—I have to call Carolyn.”

  “Why?” His caring gaze sharpens. “What’s going on?”

  With my head cocked to one side, I briefly close my eyes. “I was right. She was lying about what went down that night.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  BEFORE

  Carolyn

  Once I arrive at the hideous shack in rural Elk Neck, my husband has already murdered Marianna Haley in cold blood. Although he’s nowhere in sight and my sister-in-law’s vehicle is parked in the yard nearby, I know it in my bones—Bill stabbed Marianna. I’ve suspected for over four years that his leisure pursuits are of the heinous variety.

  My theory began when I discovered a Polaroid camera hidden on the top shelf of our bedroom closet. Once I’d replaced the film to see if it still worked, an obscene photograph of a woman that must’ve been stuck inside fell into my lap. Ironically, that same woman had recently moved into the rowhouse next to Frank and Diane’s. Marianna was so cheerful and full of life in person that I had a hard time convincin’ myself it was the same terrified model in Bill’s Polaroid.

  It was then I first realized there was nothin’ ironic about Marianna Haley movin’ into the neighborhood.

  I cataloged Marianna’s actions from afar for years after she moved into Federal Hill. The very first time I laid eyes on her, I sensed she was naive and malleable, like each and every one of Bill’s prior whores. Somethin’ about Marianna, however, was different. I couldn’t put my finger on the reason until a few years later when I spotted her daughter playin’ outside alongside my niece, Josephine. Other than their hair color, they could’ve been mistaken for sisters.

  That’s when I knew Bill had fathered Marianna’s child.

  Ever since I first learned of my husband’s connection to the new woman in the neighborhood, I had increased my spendin’ habits. Designer clothes, exotic vacations with friends, lavish parties at the clubhouse—nothin’ was too expensive for a scorned wife. One way or another, I would make William Kelly pay for his sins against a former beauty queen. I could’ve been with any man of my choosin’. As fate would have it, I chose wrong.

  Bill’s muffled voice echoes through the chilled darkness. I’m unable to make out the words, only the furious intention behind them. Is he chasin’ after Diane?

  Fumblin’ my way through the densely wooded forest, my eyes eventually catch on a glint of somethin’ in the scant moonlight: a knife. I bend to snag the object by its handle, instantly nauseated by the smear of blood against the blade.

  I married a monster.

  It’s time to make the evil bastard pay.

  With the knife grasped firmly in my grip, I make it a few more yards when I come across a lump on the ground. I nearly pass it by, assumin’ it’s a dead animal of some kind until I catch a reedy moan.

  “Diane?” I gasp, droppin’ to my knees.

  When she doesn’t answer, I press my fingers against the side of her windpipe. A faint beat strains against my touch. Although she’s alive, I check her for a wound and discover oodles of blood oozin’ from her side. It seems Marianna wasn’t Bill’s only intended victim of the night.

  “Lizzy, do not disobey your father!”

  My heart slams to a stilted stop.

  I’d invited Diane over for wine earlier in the night, but she’d declined, sayin’ Josephine had invited the neighbor girl over for a slumber party.

  My knees threaten to buckle.

  Did Diane bring the girls along?

  “I’ll come back for you,” I promise Diane, strokin’ a hand over her clammy head. “I need to protect the girls.”

  Hot tears of fear and terror stream down my cheeks as I follow the direction of my husband’s voice. If I had followed Diane when I’d first seen her car pull out of the driveway…would I have been able to stop Bill’s murderous rampage? If he hurts those little girls, I’m not certain I can live with myself and my husband’s actions.

  When I spot Bill standin’ in the clearin’, I hold my breath and lunge at him, holdin’ the knife out in front of me the way a knight would wield a sword.

  By the time I realize my husband has leaped to the side, it’s too late.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  PRESENT DAY

  Josephine

  “Iknow you killed Josephine,” I tell Carolyn.

  Her sharp gaze darts away from mine and lands on two little girls swinging across the park. A cold breeze passes through, and she shivers, lifting the lapels on her white pea coat. She doesn’t confirm or deny my accusation. Her lips remain firmly pressed together as we sit in silence.

  When I booked a return flight to Baltimore, I knew there was a chance Carolyn wouldn’t agree to meet with me. The fact that she showed up at the time and place we agreed on makes me believe a part of her feels remorseful for her part in Bill’s evil deeds.

  “I remembered everything while in a therapy session,” I explain. I set my hand on top of hers. “From my viewpoint, it looked like an accident.”

  “I’ve tirelessly replayed that night in my head ever since it happened,” she confesses, her voice weak with pain. Tears brim her eyes as she continues. “Bill was my target. I found your momma and heard you girls cryin’. It was my intention to stop him before he hurt you, too. Had I known he was gonna move out of the way when he did…” Shaking her head, she removes an embroidered hanky from her coat pocket and dabs her eyes. “She was so brave, protectin’ you from him.” When she turns to give me a broken look, my heart gives a squeeze. “I hope you know I never would’ve intentionally hurt either one of you girls. Not in a million years.”

  “I believe you, Carolyn. I just wish you would’ve turned both yourself and Bill into the authorities back then. Not only was it the right thing to do, but it would’ve changed my life. You can’t imagine how cruelly Frank and Diane treated me. I would’ve been better off in a foster home.” I withdraw my hand and lean back, arms crossed. “What happened after Josephine died? Did Diane really believe Bill was dead?”

  “She didn’t stick around long enough to find out,” she admits with a slow shake of her head. “When Diane regained consciousness, she took you and left. Bill and I were too busy buryin’ Jo and Marianna in a shallow grave to notice. He wanted to ensure I was just as invested in their murders and the coverup so I wouldn’t go runnin’ off to the police.” She pauses with a fleeting glance that could almost be construed as an apology. “Have you told the detectives about this memory of yours?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to talk with you first.”

  She squints. “About what?”

  “The Baltimore PD and the FBI have been working overtime compiling a list of missing women who may have been Bill’s victims, and attempting to locate their bodies in Elk Neck. Bill continues to deny any involvement with Marianna or any other women.”

  “I’m aware,” she tells me with an irritated sigh. “His lawyer thinks he’ll walk.”

  “You can’t allow that to happen, Carolyn. You might be the only one who can provide them with irrefutable evidence linking Bill to those murders. The time to protect his secrets is over. I understand why you resent Marianna, but she was attempting to bring justice to his victims the night she lured him out to the shack. And she knew there was a good chance she’d die in the process.” With a pleading look, I capture both of her hands in mine. “If there’s anything you’ve been hiding, maybe receipts that would put him at the same location as those the missing women were last seen, anything unusual he’s been collecting that might be trophies from his murders⁠—”

  “Those damn Polaroids,” she murmurs.

  Goosebumps spread across my skin. “Like the one Marianna mentioned in her journal?”

  “Not exactly. The women are undoubtedly alive, but…they’re all wearin’ lingerie…some of them appear…uncomfortable.”

  My pulse throbs against my throat. “Where are they?”

  She withdraws and rubs the palms of her hands against her thighs. “That depends. If I give them to you, are the police gonna charge me as an accessory to murder, like you said?”

  I pause. I’m not an official part of the investigation and I don’t know anything about the prosecutor on Bill’s case. “If you hand the evidence over to the detectives, the state’s attorney might request a shorter sentence. Maybe your attorney can even get them to set you up in a minimum security prison.” Of course, I don’t know if any of these things will happen, but I’m eager to sweeten the deal so she has a reason to cooperate. I squeeze her elbow. “Carolyn, you owe it to his victims. Their families deserve peace, once and for all.”

  With a resolved sigh, she begins digging through her designer handbag. Although the monitor on her ankle ensures she won’t get too far without alerting the police, I’m not certain she doesn’t own another handgun.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Lookin’ for my phone. I’m calling my attorney. I’ll have him meet me at the house before turnin’ myself in. I’ll let him decide the best way to handle the Polaroids.”

  As I exhale a long breath, a sense of peace settles over my bones. By the end of the day, I’ll be reunited with Rocco and can begin to heal.

  But there’s one more stop I have to make on the way to the airport.

  Tucked beneath a blanket on the hospital bed, Bill Kelly appears even more frail than he’d been when I found him unconscious on his patio. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he’s been starving himself in an attempt to convince a jury he’s weak and harmless. I stand in the threshold to his room, carefully choosing the last words I’ll ever say to the man who murdered my birth mother.

  “Hello?” he calls out, his voice meek. “Who’s there?”

  “Cut the crap, Bill,” I snap, moving in closer. “Recovering from a hip replacement at your age doesn’t erase the fact that you’re an evil monster.” If I hadn’t sworn to uphold the law, I’d be tempted to disconnect the IV pumping pain medicine into the back of his hand. “I only stopped by to let you know every little lie you’ve ever told is about to be exposed, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Your victims…my birth mother…they’ll finally have a voice.”

  His eyes harden. “Whatever it is you think you know⁠—”

  “I know everything, Bill. Your brother, Eddie, and your wife have agreed to testify against you.” I lean down to whisper into his ear, “You’re going to die in prison. And I hope it’s as painful as hell.”

  As I step away to leave, he shouts, “Don’t you walk away from me! How dare you disrespect your father this way!”

  I shoot him a hateful look. “There’s no proof that you’re my father,” I snarl, resisting the urge to slap him. “Marianna said so in her journal. And I have no desire to learn the truth, so I won’t be taking a DNA test.”

  Swiftly exiting the room, a spark of satisfaction ignites in my belly when imagining a prison guard finding him shanked to death on a prison floor.

  After I end the call with Captain Ruiz, I roll onto my other side to face Rocco with a quiet sigh. He’s looking back at me with a devilish glint in his eye. Since I last returned to Ames, we’ve spent countless hours intertwined in his sheets. For the first time in my life, I have no desire to run from an intimate situation. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  “They took Carolyn into custody after her attorney submitted the Polaroids,” I tell him, watching my fingertip trail up and down his defined jaw. “She’s being charged with involuntary manslaughter. Captain Ruiz believes they’ll take her age into consideration and put her on house arrest.”

  “How does that make you feel?”

  “Content, I suppose. I suggested they put Carolyn on suicide watch so she doesn’t have the chance to end her shame.”

  “What did Captain Ruiz have to say about the Polaroids?”

  “The FBI has already identified three women in the pictures who were reported as missing before Marianna’s death. They’ve unearthed some human remains in Elk Neck, too. They’re officially charging Bill Kelly with multiple counts of first-degree murder, including one for suffocating his own father in the nursing home.”

  “Jo, I’m sorry.” He kisses my hand. “You realize none of this would’ve happened without you, right?”

  “At least something positive came out of meeting my messed-up family,” I agree with a snort.

  “Now that you know your birth mother named you Elizabeth, are you still going to go by Josephine?”

  “It feels wrong to change my identity after forty-nine—make that forty-seven—years. And my reputation as a detective hinges on that name. Besides, it seems fitting to honor the name of the brave little girl who saved my life.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” He captures my lips in a lingering kiss before backing away with a nostalgic expression. “I’ve been putting this question off as long as possible: when are you headed back to Chaska?”

  I briefly nibble on my bottom lip. “Would it freak you out if I told you I’m not? At least not permanently and not anytime in the near future. After I pack Frank and Diane’s things and list the house, I’ll have to do the same with my condo. With the proceeds from both sales, I should be able to afford something decent around here.”

  He rises to his crooked elbow. “Hold on. What are you saying?”

  “Relax, big guy. I’m not proposing or anything.” I push him down to his back and straddle him with a gleeful smile I can’t contain. “But I did hand in my resignation. You can plan on seeing me around for as long as you’ll have me.”

  “What if we looked for a new place together? It would be a fresh start for both of us…a break from our past. The day nurse thinks it’s time to put Nonna in a memory care facility. As much as I liked growing up in this house, it’s time to move on.”

  “I’d be open to the idea,” I decide with a little thrill. A happily-ever-after with Rocco wasn’t on my bingo card. Neither was discovering my birth mother had been murdered by the man who may have fathered me. “We both have a lot of mental trauma to sort through before things get too serious.” I dust my fingertips over his wide lips. “Have you talked to the VA about your night terrors?”

  “A lot of shit went down while I was in Iraq,” he admits with a distant look. “I’ve stopped having nightmares since we left Baltimore, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to properly address the issue with a therapist once and for all.”

  “Maybe Noelle can recommend someone who offers couples’ discounts,” I tease.

  “Are you going to apply with the PD down here?”

  “I don’t think so.” I heave a big breath and release a little smile. “The idea may be a little premature, but I’d really like to create a non-profit that advocates for abused women who don’t think they have any options beyond staying in a toxic relationship.”

  “Like your birth mother.”

  “Like Marianna,” I agree.

  “This confirms my suspicion, Jo. You’re the exact same person I first fell in love with.” Gripping my wrists, he uses a classic wrestling move to roll me onto my back. His dark eyes bore into mine as he hovers above. “You know, starting a non-profit could take up oodles of your time. You’ll be far too busy to properly take care of yourself. What if you had a built-in butler and chef who knew how to make the world’s best tortellini in brodo?”

  “You have my attention.” Smirking, I quirk one brow. “Is this theoretical butler good-looking?”

  “Looks are subject to every individual’s personal taste,” he recites with ease. He lowers down to brush his lips over mine. “But I’m pretty confident you’d be attracted to this one.”