‘Christ.’ Sara covered her face with both hands. She wanted to wash herself with lye.

‘She wouldn’t give up.’ Will picked at his eyebrow, a nervous tic Sara had noticed the first time they’d met. ‘Angie. She wouldn’t give up. Even if she was hurt.’

Sara didn’t respond, but he was right. Angie was a cockroach. She left disease wherever she went and nothing could destroy her.

Will said, ‘Her car isn’t here. But her key is. But she could have another one. A key.’ He dropped his hand. ‘She was a cop. She was the toughest girl at the home. Tougher than the boys. Tougher than me, sometimes. She knows how to handle herself. She has people, a network, who would help her if she was in trouble. If she was hurt.’

Every word he said was like a dagger.

‘Right?’ Will said. ‘If anyone could survive this, it’s Angie?’

Sara shook her head. She couldn’t have this conversation. ‘What am I supposed to do here, Will? Reassure you? Comfort you? Tell you it’s okay that you deceived me? That you knew she was violating my privacy—our privacy—but you let it happen anyway?’ Sara put her hand over her mouth, because sounding shrill would not get them through this. ‘I know that part of you will always have feelings for her. She’s been an important part of your life for almost thirty years. I accept that. I understand that you are connected to her because of what you survived, but you and I are together. At least I thought we were. I need you to be honest with me.’

Will shook his head as if this was a simple misunderstanding. ‘I am being honest. She was parked on the street. We didn’t talk. I guess I should’ve told you.’

Sara bit down hard on the guess.

Again he glanced back at the opening where the lift would come. ‘It’s been longer than five minutes.’

‘Will.’ What little remained of her pride drained away. ‘Please. Just tell me what you want me to do. Please.’ Sara grabbed his hand before she could stop herself. She couldn’t stand the feeling that he was slipping away. ‘Should I give you some time? If that’s what you need, just tell me.’

He looked down at their hands.

‘Talk to me. Please.’

His thumb stroked the back of her fingers. Was he trying to think of a way to leave her? Was there more that he hadn’t confessed?

She felt her heart start to shake in her chest. ‘If you need to work through this alone, then tell me. I can take it. Just tell me what you want me to do.’

He kept stroking her hand. Sara remembered the first time Will had touched her like this. They were in the basement of the hospital. The feel of his skin against hers had set off an explosion inside of her body. Her heart had fluttered in her chest the same way it was fluttering now. Except that time, she was filled with hope. Now, she was flooded with dread.

‘Will?’

He cleared his throat. He tightened his grip on her hand. She held her breath as she waited for his words, wondering if this was the end of their relationship or just another giant mountain they had to scale.

He said, ‘Can you pick up Betty?’

Sara’s brain couldn’t process the request. ‘What?’

‘She’s at the vet and . . .’ He took a stuttered breath. He held on tight to her hand. ‘I don’t know how late I’ll be. Can you pick her up?’

Sara felt her mouth open, then close, then open again.

‘They told me she would . . .’ He paused. She saw his Adam’s apple work as he swallowed. ‘They said to come at five, but maybe you can call to see if you can pick her up earlier, because they said she’d be finished by noon, but the anesthesia—’

‘Yes.’ Sara didn’t know what else to do but relent. ‘I’ll take care of her.’

He let out a long, slow breath, as if figuring out what to do with Betty was the most difficult part of this conversation. ‘Thank you.’

Charlie Reed came up the stairs, his footsteps unnaturally heavy to announce his arrival. He carried two heavy-looking duffel bags, one in each hand.

He told them, ‘Stairs are cleared, so no more deathtrap elevator.’ His mouth went into a tight smile under his handlebar mustache. ‘Will, Amanda’s waiting in the car.’

Will’s hand slipped from Sara’s. He took the stairs two at a time, sidestepping Charlie as he made a quick descent.

Sara stared after him, not sure what had just happened or how she was supposed to feel about it. She pressed her hand to her chest to make sure that her heart was still beating. The quick taps were the same as if she’d just run a marathon.

‘Goodness.’ Charlie had reached the top of the stairs. He dropped both the duffels. He clasped his hands together as he walked toward Sara. ‘I’m trying to think about how to make this more uncomfortable. Should I take off my pants? Burst into song?’

Sara tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a cry. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologize to me.’ Charlie’s smile was genuinely kind. He pulled a bottle of water out of one of the many pockets in his cargo pants. ‘You need to drink all of this. It’s officially eleventy billion degrees in here.’

Sara made herself smile because he was trying.

‘Option one,’ Charlie began. ‘Daytime drinking. It has its pros and cons.’

Sara could only think of the pros. She hadn’t had an alcoholic beverage in over a year. Will hated the taste. ‘Option two?’

He indicated the building, which was still an active crime scene.

‘The drinking is tempting,’ Sara told him, feeling every single word to her core. ‘But let’s talk about what we need to do. Harding’s body can be removed. We’ll need at least four people.’

‘I asked for six because of the stairs. ETA is forty minutes out.’

Sara looked at her watch. Her eyes blurred. She could only guess at the time. ‘They’ll need a few hours to do the prep. I’ll start the autopsy after lunch.’ Betty’s vet would not release her before five, especially to Sara. The man had a chip on his shoulder about not being a people doctor. ‘I guess the ABO testing is at the top of my list. Do we have Angie’s blood type yet?’

‘Amanda said she’d text it to you as soon as she finds out. Meanwhile, I’ve asked one of the techs to collect samples from the blood. He’ll probably take about half an hour. As you can see, the walls are practically black with graffiti, so I told him to just collect what’s visible and triple-check his labels. He’s slow, but thorough.’ Charlie paused for a breath. ‘Until then, you can help me set up the black lights and photograph the luminol reactions, or you can sit in the coolness of the crime scene van and wait for the samples so you can work your magic.’

Sara longed to be alone in the van, but she said, ‘I’ll help you.’ She took a mouthful of water. Her stomach roiled at the cold liquid. It was the lipstick. She couldn’t get her mind off Angie standing at the mirror in Will’s bathroom, testing Sara’s make-up, taking what she wanted. That’s what Angie Polaski did. She took things that belonged to other people.

Charlie asked, ‘You okay?’

‘Absolutely.’ Sara carefully screwed the cap back on the water bottle. She asked Charlie, ‘What else?’