“The night before your mom was killed, you two talked on the phone, right?”

Kimberly started to cry again.

“Kimberly?”

“I miss her so much.”

“I know you do, honey. We all do. But I need you to focus for a second, okay?”

Kimberly nodded through the tears.

“What did you and your mom talk about?”

“What difference does it make?”

“I’m looking into who murdered her.”

Kimberly started to cry again.

“Kimberly?”

“Didn’t Mom interrupt a robbery?”

That was one of the county boys’ hypotheses. Drug fiends desperate for money had broken in, and before they could find anything of value, Heidi had interrupted them and gotten killed for her trouble.

“No, honey, that’s not what happened.”

“Then what?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Kimberly, listen to me. Another woman was murdered by the same person.”

Kimberly blinked like someone had whacked her with a two-by-four. “What?”

“I need you to tell me what you and your mom talked about.”

Kimberly’s eyes started dancing around the room. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t believe that, Kimberly.”

Kimberly started crying again.

“I checked the phone records. You and your mom exchanged a bunch of texts, but you’ve only talked on the phone three times this semester. The first call lasted six minutes. The second, only four. But the night before she was murdered, the call between you two lasted more than two hours. What did you two talk about?”

“Please, Aunt Johanna, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Like hell it doesn’t.” There was steel in Johanna’s voice now. “Tell me.”

“I can’t. . . .”

Johanna dropped off the bed and knelt in front of Kimberly. She took the girl’s face in her hands and forced her to look directly at her. “Look at me.”

It took some time, but Kimberly did.

“Whatever happened to your mother, it’s not your fault. You hear me? She loved you and she would want you to go on and live the best life you can. I’ll be there for you. Always. Because that’s what your mother would have wanted. Do you hear me?”

The girl nodded.

“So now,” Johanna said, “I need you to tell me about her last phone call.”

Chapter 47

Adam watched from what he hoped was a safe distance as Gabrielle Dunbar hurriedly packed a suitcase in the trunk of her car.

A half hour ago, Adam had decided to take one more run at Gabrielle on his way to work. But as he turned down her street, Gabrielle Dunbar was throwing a suitcase in the trunk. Her two children—Adam estimated them to be about twelve and ten—lugged smaller bags. He pulled his car to the side, kept a safe distance, and watched.

So now what?

The night before, Adam had tried to reach out to the other three people Gribbel had been able to identify and locate in that photograph on Gabrielle Dunbar’s page. None gave him anything useful on the stranger. No surprise. Whatever line of bull he threw at them, they were all naturally wary of a “stranger”—yep, irony strikes again—asking them in one fashion or another to identify a person, possibly a friend or coworker, from a group photograph. None of them lived close enough for Adam to chance, as he had with Gabrielle, confronting them in person.

So his mind went back to Gabrielle Dunbar.

She was hiding something. That much had been obvious to him yesterday—and suddenly she was rushing out of the house again with her third suitcase.

Coincidence?

He didn’t think so. He stayed in his car and watched. Gabrielle threw the bag into the trunk and struggled to slam it closed. She swept her children into the car, both in the backseat, and made sure they were strapped in. She opened her own door, paused, and then Gabrielle looked down the street right at him.

Damn.

Adam quickly slid down in the driver’s seat. Had she spotted him? He didn’t think so. Or if she had, would she know who he was from this distance? And hold up, so what if she had? He had come here to confront her, right? He raised himself back up slowly, but Gabrielle wasn’t looking in his direction anymore. She’d gotten into the car and had started moving.

Man, he was no good at this.

Gabrielle’s car started down the block. Adam thought about his next move but not for very long. In for a penny, in for a pound. Adam shifted into drive and started to follow.

He wasn’t sure how far to stay back so that she wouldn’t see him and yet he wouldn’t lose her. All of his knowledge on this subject had come from a lifetime of watching TV. Would anyone even know what a tail was if they hadn’t watched television? She turned right. Adam followed. They started toward Route 208 and then down Interstate 287. Adam checked his gas tank. Nearly full. Okay, good. Just how long did he plan on following her anyway? And when he caught up, what exactly did he plan on doing then?

One step at a time.

His cell phone rang. He glanced down and saw the name JOHANNA pop up.

He had programmed her phone number into his smartphone after her visit last night. Did he fully trust her? Pretty much, yeah. She had a simple agenda: Find her friend’s killer. As long as that wasn’t Corinne, Johanna could be, he thought, an asset and even an ally. If the killer was Corinne, then he had bigger problems than trusting a cop from Ohio.

“Hello?”

“I’m about to board a plane,” Johanna said.

“Heading back home?”

“I’m already back home.”

“In Ohio?”

“At the Cleveland airport, yeah. I had to take Heidi’s daughter home, but I’m flying back out to Newark in a few. What are you up to?”

“I’m tailing Gabrielle Dunbar.”

“Tailing?”

“Isn’t that what you cops call it when you follow someone?”

He quickly explained how he came to her house and saw her packing up.

“So what’s your plan here, Adam?”

“I don’t know. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

“Fair point.”

“Why did you call?”

“I learned something last night.”

“I’m listening.”

“Whatever is happening here,” she said, “this isn’t just about one website.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This stranger guy. He doesn’t just tell his victims about their wives faking pregnancies. He has access to other sites. Or at least one other site.”

“How do you know this?”

“I talked to Heidi’s daughter.”

“So what was the secret?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell—and you don’t need to know, trust me on that. The key thing is, your stranger may be blackmailing a whole slew of people for a variety of reasons, not just for faking a pregnancy.”

“So what do we think is going on here exactly?” Adam asked. “This stranger and Ingrid were blackmailing people about what they do online?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“So why is my wife missing?”

“Don’t know.”

“And who killed your friend? And Ingrid?”

“Don’t know and don’t know. Maybe something went wrong with the blackmail. Heidi was tough. Maybe she stood up to them. Maybe the stranger and Ingrid had a falling-out.”

Up ahead, Gabrielle was pulling off an exit to Route 23. Adam hit his turn signal and stayed with her.

“So what’s the connection between your friend and my wife?”

“Other than the stranger, I don’t see any.”

“Hold up,” Adam said.

“What?”

“Gabrielle’s pulling into a driveway.”

“Where?”

“Lockwood Avenue in Pequannock.”

“That’s in New Jersey?”

“Yeah.”

Adam wasn’t sure whether he should stay back and stop suddenly or drive past and find a spot to pull over. He opted for the latter, cruising by the yellow split-level with the aluminum siding and red shutters. A man opened the front door, smiled, and strolled toward Gabrielle’s car. Adam didn’t recognize him. The car doors opened. The girl came out of the car first. The man gave her an awkward hug.