Vincent drops me back near the park. Because no one’s around, he takes his time and thoroughly kisses me goodbye. It’s hard not to feel gooey as I step out of the car and wave to him.

But as soon as he’s gone, the day swamps me again.

Our conversation with Scott Tannon niggles, eating my brain to the point where I know I won’t be able to drop this.

I know it’s big. It’s scary.

But we can’t just let this injustice fly.

I want to know who’s gone to all this effort to set up Nick. It’s not just some simple cover-up when you’ve managed to persuade the accused, the lawyer, and the police to keep their mouths shut.

What are they really hiding?

Why did they really kill Todd McCrae?

I stop on the sidewalk.

That’s it.

That’s the question we should have been asking. We’ve been going about this all wrong. Rather than working backward, we should be starting at the beginning.

With Todd McCrae.

Breaking into a jog, I run home, figuring a couple of hours on my laptop might unearth a whole bunch of answers.

I shove open the back door and make a beeline for my room, nearly jumping out of my skin when Dad says, “Hey, Chloe,” from the living room.

“Oh!” I pat my heaving chest and let out a nervous titter.

Dad chuckles and glances up from the book he’s reading. “Where’ve you been?”

“Um…” I puff and point over my shoulder. “Just hanging out.”

“With your sisters?”

I swallow and shake my head. “No…Rahn. You know, just more fundraising stuff.”

Man, it feels weird lying to Dad this way, not to mention the fact that I’m using Rahn for cover again. I need to make sure she doesn’t feel like I’m taking advantage of her. Crap, I’m a bad friend.

I catch myself worrying my lip and quickly stop before Dad notices. I’m surprised his eyes aren’t narrowing with suspicion. Can’t he hear my thundering heart? There’s an earthquake ripping through my body at the moment.

“Where’s Mom?” I glance around.

Dad’s lips twitch with a triumphant grin. “She’s signing her new contract.”

“She got the job?” A smile jumps onto my face. “That’s great! Man, she is going to revolutionize that place.”

“Oh yeah.” Dad laughs.

“You must be relieved.” I tip my head and wink at him.

“I think we all will be.”

We share a look that says it all before breaking into laughter. It’s nice seeing him relax for a minute. He’s usually so intense and focused, but he’s got the house to himself and he’s obviously enjoying some time out.

I wonder where Uncle Conrad is, but stop myself from asking because I really want to get down to my room and start Googling: Todd McCrae, Armitage, CA.

“Hey, well, I’m gonna go to my room.”

“Okay, sweets. Enjoy the peace.”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

I suck in a breath as I spin away. The urge to turn back and let it all out is kind of strong. It’d be great to have Dad’s support on this one, but I understand why Vincent doesn’t want him involved. Besides, I don’t want to be banned from seeing my new boyfriend, either.

I like to think that Dad’s a little more open-minded than that, but when I put myself in his shoes, I get it. Vincent’s family is trouble, and I wouldn’t want my innocent kid near them either, even if she is falling for the diamond among the charcoal.

Clicking my door shut, I grab my laptop and plunk onto my bed.

The late afternoon turns to dusk without me even noticing.

By the time I’m called to the table for dinner, I’ve found out as much as I can about Todd McCrae—reporter for the Armitage Gazette.

I also have the name of someone who might be able to shed some more light on this mystery—Camila Montes.

Todd McCrae’s girlfriend.

* * *

It’s probably dumb, but I decide to visit Camila alone. I feel kind of bad for not involving Vincent, but he asked me to drop this and I don’t want him to be annoyed, especially when this visit could lead to nothing.

Max gave me the keys to our car. Cairo’s going to drop her home, so I’m a free agent for the afternoon. It’s worked out well actually. Having avoided my family for the last half of Spring Break, I felt like I couldn’t say no to their lunch invitation. Max was actually kind of insistent, so I went along, wondering the whole time how I was going to get away.

Thankfully Holden got a text and he had to split. Maddie went with him. I took it as a sign and quickly came up with an excuse to leave.

Checking Maps on my phone, I follow the directions and turn left onto the next street, then take the second right. Camila’s little house is number 18. I slow the car and gaze at the white garage door. A palm tree is growing in the front yard, looking like a lonely soldier refusing to give up his post.

Nerves pummel me as I step onto the sidewalk. I don’t know how this will go down. I just hope she’s open to talking to me. It’s probably the last thing she feels like doing on a Sunday afternoon, but I didn’t want to call ahead because she might have hung up on me or told me not to come.

At least this way it’s a surprise attack and I might have a better chance of getting through the door.

Pulling my sweater sleeves down, I hold my breath and walk down the concrete path to her front door. The doorbell makes a weird squawk when I push it, but thankfully no dogs are going crazy at me this time.

I nibble on my lower lip while I wait, hoping she’s home. School starts up again tomorrow and my free time will disappear. I feel like this is my only chance to really get some information.

The door clicks and I flinch, pasting on a smile just as a short, heavyset woman opens the door. Her black hair is styled in a pixie cut that frames her round face.

“Hi.” I smile.

She frowns. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Chloe. I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time.”

Her dark eyebrows dip even further together. “You’re not about to sell me something, are you?”

“No.” I grin at her, raising my hands to show her I’m not carrying anything.

“Then what do you want?”

“I just want to talk.”

Her face puckers with a guarded scowl. “You’re not a reporter, are you?”

“Me? No, I’m a student at Armitage High.”

“Oh.” She wraps her long knitted sweater tightly around herself. “Well, what do you want to talk about?”

I swallow, wondering how to broach this. “I’m looking for some answers to an unsolved mystery…” I sigh. “I’m trying to help my boyfriend, and I think you might be a good source of information.”

Her wide mouth trembles as she sucks in a breath. With glistening eyes, she shakes her head and murmurs, “If this is about Todd, I don’t have anything new to tell you.”

She goes to close the door, but I shoot out my hand to stop her. “Please. I know talking about him must be really hard. I’m sorry for your loss.”

With a soft huff, she stops pushing the door against me.

“It’s just…something feels off to me. Nick Mancini being the killer doesn’t make sense.”

Camila’s face takes on a hard, brittle edge. “Don’t you dare try to prove him innocent. He killed the man I wanted to marry.”

“I don’t think he did.”

Her olive skin pales.

“I know all the evidence is there, but something doesn’t add up, and you can’t tell me that you’re happy for an innocent man to be behind bars when Todd’s actual killer is walking free.”

Her nostrils flare, tears building on her lashes and spilling over.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to upset you. I just hate injustice so much. My boyfriend misses his brother terribly and it’s not fair…the conditions he has to cope with.” I shake my head. “He needs his brother. And sure, if I didn’t care about him so much, I would be completely unaware and no doubt happy for Nick to serve his time. But I’m telling you, he didn’t do it.”

Her forehead wrinkles.

“So, if there’s anything you can tell me that might shed some light on this situation, I’d—”

“Why are you doing this?” Her wide brown eyes spark. “You’re a high school student. If the guy is innocent, it shouldn’t be your job to prove it.”

“Everyone who could have helped him has gone into hiding. They’re all scared, and I want to figure out why.”

She looks to the floor, quietly sniffing while she thinks. Her knuckles pale as she grips the door, but then, very slowly, she pulls it open for me and silently ushers me inside. I follow her into a small living area and take a seat on the brown couch when she points at it.

Grabbing a tissue from the box, she dabs her face and crumples into the armchair adjacent to me. “I always thought it was weird that Nick Mancini went on about his innocence and then never appealed. I saw him at the station the night he was arrested. He was shouting that he was innocent. He looked so scared, like somehow he knew it wouldn’t matter either way.”

I gather my hair and pull it over my shoulder so I can play with the ends while I’m talking. “Leading up to that night, was Todd doing anything different, or did he say anything to you that seemed out of the blue or unusual?”

Pressing the tissue under her nose, Camila takes a second to compose herself. “The afternoon he was killed, Todd told me that he was onto something big. Something that would set us up for the future. He didn’t say what it was, but he was really excited. Things had been tough for us and it felt like a way out of Armitage. We’d be able to get married and move to a nicer place, so I didn’t bother asking for details. Todd liked to sit on stories and get them perfect before giving them to his editor. I was used to him being secretive about his work, so when he left for a meeting at eight o’clock that night, I didn’t even think to question him.” Another tear breaks free, trailing down her cheek unnoticed. “I didn’t know it’d be the last time I’d see him.”

“So you’re pretty sure he was working on a story? How would that set you up for the future?”

“I don’t know.” She frowns. “He was working for the Gazette, and maybe he thought this could get him front page and he’d start working his way up to editor-in-chief. He was very ambitious and determined to be out of this place as soon as we could. He was just clocking up some experience here and then hoping to head to LA or New York or somewhere big so he could get a real high-flying job.”

“Do you know if he had any photos or notes that might be useful? Maybe he’d already started his story.”

Camila swipes her cheek with the tissue. “The police already came and took all of that. It was evidence and I’ve never gotten it back.”

“Who came? Was it Police Chief Tannon?”

She shakes her head. “No, it was the female detective in charge of the case. She was very kind and sympathetic.”

It’s hard to hide my confusion. What female detective?

“What…what was her name?”

“I can’t remember it now.” Her eyebrows flicker as she tries to dredge it up.

“Do you remember what she looked like?”

“Sure. She was short, Latina like me, but very beautiful, dressed impeccably. Long black hair in one of those low ponytails, perfect makeup. You know the kind. She even had a beauty spot on her upper lip.” Camila touches the left side of her upper lip. “She looked like a model, but was obviously a well-trained detective. She wore glasses.”

I manage a closed-mouth smile in spite of my trembling insides.

As far as I know, no one at the Armitage PD looks like that. And the only cop who was working the Mancini case was Tannon. He made that very clear when he spoke to us. He wouldn’t let anyone else touch the case, because he knew something was off.

I don’t know who that woman was.

But I need to find out.