Chapter 1 - Jordan
ONE
JORDAN
—Silverman for Sheriff Facebook page
Standing at the kitchen island well after midnight, Jordan used his fork to saw off a corner of the lasagna he hadn’t bothered to reheat.
The cheese was cold and congealed, the pasta wading in a puddle of the Italian dressing he’d poured too fast over his handful of salad.
But he had to eat. The moment he turned off his car in the driveway, adrenaline had begun flooding out of his body like a wave receding on the beach.
He lifted a bite to his mouth and forced himself to chew.
Seated on the opposite side of the breakfast bar, Amber scrolled on her oversized phone with tired, red-rimmed eyes. She wore an old cardigan over her nightgown and her dark brown hair was held in place with a half-broken banana clip.
He had driven out to Valley Children’s Hospital on his way home to see Steve and Joanne and get the latest update on Bree.
She was finally out of surgery and doctors had placed her in a medically induced coma to give her the best chance to heal.
Her physical survival seemed assured, but what lay next, no one knew.
No one was celebrating her miraculous survival.
Her parents’ stricken faces would stay with him forever.
When Sydney met Jordan at the door, her face alive with hope, he wrapped her in a hug that might have been the longest they ever shared. Certainly, she would not have tolerated it under any other circumstances.
“But she’s alive, right, Dad?” Sydney asked when he finally let go, studying his eyes for signs of evasion.
“She’s alive,” he confirmed. “Beyond that, we don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“She has a brain injury and a broken back, honey. All we can do now is love her, wait, and pray.”
As disbelief transformed into understanding, Sydney burst into tears. As Jordan reached out to hug her again, her arms fell limp by her sides, and she stumbled away to her room.
“I love you,” he said to her back.
Amber reassured him that he’d handled it the best he could.
Jordan tried to think of a worse day in his career but couldn’t. Five people dead. Two rapidly spreading wildfires. Mile-long backups on Highway 41, which was still restricted to a single lane while the wrecker crew tried to safely remove the jackknifed semi from an active firefighting scene.
And, of course, one escaped fugitive—the most notable escapee Madera County had ever seen.
After Cara Campbell had thrown herself into the water, he chased her for as long as he could, but the current carried her faster than he could follow.
She disappeared almost immediately into the frothing white rapids, resurfacing for only a second before she was swept out of sight.
The glimpse of her face in the cold, white light of his headlamp had been so brief he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined it.
The morning’s search would be a body recovery. With the dogs, it wouldn’t take too long.
Amber glanced up. “Have you heard of Dylan Danvers?”
“No. Should I?” He forked and sawed another bite of lasagna, telling himself to finish the whole thing. He needed calories.
“He’s the son of a model and some big football player.”
“Nico Danvers?”
She nodded. “Dylan’s a total nepo baby. He didn’t inherit his dad’s athletic talent, so he did some acting, but his career didn’t really take off. Then there was a cooking show, which got canceled, so he tried being an influencer. Now he’s a true-crime podcaster.”
“Does he make a living at it?”
“I’m not sure he has to. But his season on Cara Campbell totally blew up. I guess it was the perfect combination, with a celebrity covering a celebrity murderer.”
“When I was a kid, celebrities were people who actually accomplished something.”
Amber chuckled, reached across the breakfast bar, and patted him on the forearm. “Don’t forget to take your meds, grampaw. Other podcasts covered the trial, too, but Danvers seems convinced she’s actually innocent.”
“And you’re telling me this because . . . ?”
“He just released a short episode, really an update. I didn’t listen, but according to this summary, he wants his ‘crime fam’ to send clues and help find her.”
“Just what I need,” said Jordan, chewing. “And people listen to this guy?”
“It’s a top-ten podcast on Spotify. All the true-crime yahoos are going to be glued to their couches, studying each other’s TikToks and trying to decide whether you’re merely a bumbling incompetent or actually a sinister villain in league with a shadowy cabal of lizard people who run the US government from the basement of a Chuck E. Cheese.”
“How do we know they’re not lizard people themselves?”
“That’s exactly what a lizard person would say. I’m just waiting for someone to say the whole accident was staged by paid actors in order to distract the public’s attention.”
“From what?”
Amber shrugged. “Changes weekly.”
Jordan gave up on the lasagna and shoveled the rest into the garbage disposal.
He went around the breakfast bar and hugged her from behind, resting his cheek on the top of her head and inhaling deeply.
She’d been prickly about being touched lately, frustrated with her weight, but he had never cared, only loved her softness and warmth and the way she smelled.
She reached up and awkwardly squeezed back. “Is there any chance Cara Campbell survived?”
“I think the couch detectives are wasting their time. But I’m going to find her, either way.”
Amber was quiet for a moment. “That’s sad. I saw this Instagram story earlier from Cara’s best friend, maybe her only remaining friend, Stephanie van der Lind. She’s a realtor who got famous by appearing on Selling to the Stars—during Cara’s trial.”
“Let me guess: she’s using the escape to market her next open house?”
“Well, that, too,” Amber said with the smile that usually came so easily.
Letting go of him, she called up the Instagram story and showed him her screen.
A pop song blared from the phone’s tinny speakers as Campbell and van der Lind posed next to a pool, wearing tiny swimsuits, enormous sunglasses, and toothy smiles.
She is NOT America’s Most Wanted, read the blocky text. She is my friend. Bring her home safe!!!
Jordan’s stomach rolled. So many people were learning their loved ones had died today. “Does anyone think she’s actually guilty? Besides, you know, the judge and jury.”
“I think most people know she did it. Social media is never an accurate barometer because it pushes controversial opinions to the top. Her stepdaughter, who apparently never liked her in the first place due to the whole gold-digger thing, definitely thinks she’s guilty.”
Amber swiped until she found what she wanted, then showed him her screen again. The tweet from Taylor Campbell made his skin prickle.
IF SHE’S DEAD, SHE DESERVES IT.