I agree. I warned Cora that I might not be able to tell her everything Beau tells me.

“She got pregnant.” The shift in Beau is subtle and filled with pain. “We talked about keeping it, but in the end…I went with her to her appointment.”

“Why did you break up with her?”

“She had a hard time dealing with it. I tried to help.” Resting his elbows on the table, he scrubs his hands over his face. “Her parents are very religious. That’s how she was raised. The guilt ate at her and she took it out on me. We argued. A lot. I didn’t know how to fix things for her. Then she told me she met someone else and, I don’t know, I sort of lost it. I told her I never wanted to see her again.” He lowers his hands. “But that wasn’t true.”

“Was she seeing someone else?”

“Yeah. A few times.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“Ask her friend Maisy.”

“You don’t know his name?”

“Would you want to know the name of the guy your girl was cheating on you with?”

“Only so I could find him and punch him in the face.”

He cracks half a smile. “It was tempting. But then I’d have a name and a face to imagine her with.”

I change the subject. “The two of you were getting back together.”

“She called me one night and we talked. She apologized. I apologized.” He bows his head. “She cried.”

Cora’s tear-streaked face flashes in my mind and I feel for him. I hate it when chicks cry. I especially hated seeing Cora do it.

“What else did you talk about?” I ask.

“She told me about the strange things that were happening around her apartment.”

“Do you know if she ever called the police?”

“I told her she should call the cops. She said she would. We talked a few more times over the next couple of weeks. Things got…better. She invited me over to her apartment.”

“The night before she was killed.”

“Yeah.”

“You had sex with her.”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. It was his DNA on and inside her body that hung him at trial.

“I loved her.” His softly spoken words echo inside me, reverberating in time with my heartbeat.

It takes a moment before I can find my voice again. “Thank you.”

I start to rise, but he reaches a hand out. “Is there really a new lead, like Cora said? A witness?” He pulls his hand back when I resume my seat.

“The downstairs neighbor, but we’re having a hard time finding her.”

“Mrs. Wheeler?”

“That’s the one.”

He rubs at his jaw. “She had a cousin who used to come and take care of her. Joni. No, Jodi something. Aagh. What was her last name?”

“Jodi Samuels. She’s dead. Can you think of anyone else who might know where she is?”

His harsh laugh has heads turning. “Just my fucking luck. Are you sure Mrs. Wheeler isn’t dead too?”

“There’s no death certificate and someone keeps cashing her Social Security checks.”

He’s quiet so long I start to shift in my seat. And then, “Zelda would know. Have you talked to her?”

“Cora tried—”

“But she wouldn’t talk to the sister of Cassandra’s murderer.”

“Something like that. I’m planning on taking a shot at her on my own. She doesn’t know who I am or that I’m working with Cora. I can come at her from a different angle—a law student investigating a local case, maybe.”

He studies me as though he’s trying to get a read on me. “You and Cora?”

Me and Cora. There are no words for me and Cora. “Not really,” I answer truthfully.

“Huh.” He does that quiet thing again where it’s like he’s trying to do a mind meld with me or something. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

“It’s because of a lot of things, but yeah, mostly you.”

He takes a moment to process this. “Ask me anything you want. I’ll answer. You can call. I get phone privileges once a week, so you don’t have to drive out.” He stands. “Don’t let her get away with that shit. I’d give up the rest of my days for just one more day with Cassandra.”

He disappears through a door before I can form a response.

I walk out of the prison into the sunshine to find Cora leaning against my car. Her head is bent over her phone. I walk straight up to her, lift her chin with a finger, and kiss her. She doesn’t react at first, and then she’s melting into me. This is the first time I’ve kissed her with her body up against mine. She feels so damn good. I move closer, pressing her between the car and me. She’s not very experienced, but I don’t care. I like it. She’s a very fast learner. Kissing her has been all I’ve wanted to do for weeks, and now that I am, I’m imagining so much more. I want to take her clothes off and lie down next to her. I want to explore her body and make it mine. I want so many things with her.

I break the kiss and look down at her, rubbing my knuckles across her cheek. She’s so damn beautiful. I get lost sometimes looking at her.

She wraps her arms around my waist. “What was that for?”

“Would you go out with me tonight?”

“Did Beau tell you something? Do you have a new lead on Edith Wheeler? What did he—”

I press a finger to her lips, cutting her off. “I’m asking you out on a date.”

“What? Why?”

The fact that she has to ask makes me wonder if she’s ever been on a date. “Because I want to pick you up at your place, take you out for dinner, and kiss you good night.”

“I was thinking of talking to a friend of Beau’s tonight who knew Cassandra pretty well—”

I silence her again. “Tomorrow. Tonight you’re going out with me.”

“What the hell went on in there? What did Beau say? Did he—”

“I’ll tell you over dinner.” I walk over to the other side of the car and open her door. “Wear something pretty.”

She climbs in and glares up at me. “I don’t know what the hell happened in there or what Beau said to you, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

I close the door and get in on my side. It’s a long ride back and a long time to dodge Cora’s questions. I turn up the radio and take her hand.

“Just enjoy the ride,” I tell her.

Beau’s whispered declaration of love for Cassandra haunts me. Somewhere out in the middle of the nowhere desert I decide I’m not ever going to give up on Cora.

Chapter 11 Cora

Something pretty. I don’t own anything pretty. I own useful and comfortable, and that’s about it.

Leo makes me leave the office earlier than I want to. He’s going to pick me up in an hour and a half. I don’t know how it got this far or why I haven’t stopped it before now. I shouldn’t be going on this date. I shouldn’t want to be pretty for Leo and I shouldn’t like him as much as I seem to. That last thought has me wondering again—how in the hell did this happen?

The other day I caught myself staring at him instead of at the computer screen. What’s the matter with me? He’s somehow wormed his way in through the cracks in my defenses. And the thing is I never saw it coming. There was nothing overt or forthright about his approach. He stole in like a thief and dismantled all of my defenses against him. I don’t protest at all when he takes my hand or hands me something I was just about to look for. I answer when he calls. I let him kiss me.

I pull up to my friend Jamie’s house and park. She still lives with her mother in the house she grew up in. Someone else lives in the house I grew up in. Some new family, pressing new memories into the walls and pushing my family’s out. Dad moving out during Beau’s trial was the beginning of the end. A few months later I came home from school to find a For Sale sign in our front yard. I never told Beau they sold the house. I didn’t have the heart to.

Jamie answers the door, chewing a wad of gum as big as her tongue. I don’t know what it is with her and gum. It’s some kind of oral fixation I don’t want to know the roots of. People say we look alike, but personality-wise we’re opposite in every way. Somehow we work. I don’t question it. I just roll with it.