Chapter 41
Nolan studied her with careful patience. “Tell us exactly what happened that night.”
Rowan’s pulse thudded. If Caleb didn’t know her story, he was about to find out.
She should have told him sooner. She knew she should have.
Now it was too late.
She focused on Ramirez. “I went to Vince’s office because I was going to confront him.”
“About what specifically?” Nolan asked.
“He’d been targeting people on set for weeks. Humiliating them. Finding ways to make them feel small.” Her throat tightened. “He’d started doing it to me.”
Nolan made a note without looking up. “And when you arrived at his office?”
“The door was open. Thayer was already inside arguing with him.”
“What were they arguing about?”
Rowan hesitated. “I didn’t fully understand it at the time.
But I’ve since learned things—I have reason to believe Vince had been recording people.
Private moments. Things he used against them.
” She stopped. “I can’t give you names yet.
Not until I know more. But I don’t think I’m the only one who could tell you something about this. ”
Neither detective looked surprised by that.
The realization moved through her slowly. “You already knew.”
“We’ve heard allegations before,” Ramirez said. “Nothing that held up.”
“Thayer was going to make them hold up,” Rowan said. “I’m nearly certain that’s what they were arguing about.”
“And then?” Nolan asked.
The image came back whether she wanted it to or not. The shove. The sound Thayer’s head made against the coffee table.
“Vince shoved him. Thayer fell and hit his head on the corner of the coffee table.” She kept her voice even through the effort of it. “I think that part was an accident. What came after wasn’t.”
Ramirez’s expression didn’t change. “Walk us through what came after.”
So she did.
“You watched all of this,” Nolan said when she finished.
“Yes.”
“From where?”
Rowan met her gaze. “I was hiding. I stayed back far enough that he couldn’t see me.”
“But he found out you were there,” Ramirez said.
“Later. Outside.” She touched her ear without thinking. “I lost an earring in the office. He found it and made sure I knew he had it.”
Nolan looked up from her notebook. “He threatened you?”
“Not directly. He texted me. Said this looked bad for me. That we should come up with a solution together.” Rowan’s jaw tightened. “He knew exactly what he was doing.”
“And your response was to leave California without contacting law enforcement.” Ramirez’s tone wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t gentle either.
“Yes.”
“You crossed state lines. You didn’t respond to anyone. You went dark for days.” He let that sit a moment. “You understand how that looks.”
Heat rose in her face. “I do.”
“Walk me through the decision,” Nolan said. “Not the emotion—the reasoning. Why didn’t you call us?”
Rowan looked at her. “Because Vince had my earring at a murder scene. Because Vince Furlough has spent thirty years making sure people in the film industry either owe him something or fear him. And because I’d just watched him stage a crime scene with the calm of someone who’d done it before.
I didn’t think my word against his was going to be enough. ”
Ramirez exhaled. “Ms. King, we don’t believe you killed Thayer Holt. But we do think Vince Furlough has been managing this narrative from the beginning.” He glanced at Nolan before looking back at her. “And we think he’s been doing it for a long time.”
Rowan looked out at the mountains beyond the fence line.
She’d known that already. She’d known it watching him with Thayer, and she’d known it every mile of the drive across the country.
But hearing it said out loud by someone with a badge didn’t bring relief.
It brought the sharp, heavy weight of knowing that whatever came next would be harder than what had come before.