Chapter 56
CHAPTER
FIFTY-SIX
Andi had barely slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, pieces slid back into place—dates, articles, fragments of stories she’d skimmed years ago without knowing what they would one day mean.
Her discovery had ignited something in her mind that refused to dim, and sometime after three in the morning, she gave up pretending rest would come.
She opened her laptop again.
By dawn, she had more.
The original woman—the one who’d vanished six months ago—had lived alone. No signs of forced entry. No struggle. According to a single line buried deep in a police summary, her front door had been found cracked open.
Andi stared at the words, her chest tightening.
The same detail. Over and over again.
Different cities. Different women. Same staging.
It was as if the killer wanted the scene to suggest hesitation. Choice. A woman stepping away from her life on her own.
The realization settled deep, heavy and cold—and clarifying all at once.
By the time the sun crept between the buildings outside her window, Andi felt more awake than she had in days.
Today was different.
They hadn’t told anyone about the added stop. Not fans. Not sponsors. Not even the crew.
Today, Anastasia and Karen would be leaving to stay with one of Ranger’s relatives in New Mexico, where they would be safe until this blew over.
The rest of them would be piling into three vans again.
Andi packed quickly. For once, the familiar knot of dread wasn’t there. Instead, a strange, steady energy filled its place.
They weren’t waiting anymore.
They weren’t reacting to threats or shadows or messages left just out of reach.
They were making a play.
Andi zipped her suitcase and grabbed the handle, pausing for just a moment at the door.
Whatever came next would be dangerous. She knew that.
But for the first time since this crime spree began, they were moving forward instead of bracing for impact.
She couldn’t remember the last time that felt this good.
Duke chose the middle row of the van on purpose.
Everyone was close enough to talk, close enough to read, close enough to react if something went wrong.
Jack drove with easy familiarity, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the window frame as the city thinned behind them and the landscape flattened into long stretches of road.
“So,” Jack said after a few miles, glancing at them in the rearview mirror. “Mind if I ask why we added another stop? I don’t remember this one on the original schedule.”
Duke kept his tone light. “We had an unexpected opportunity.”
Jack huffed a small laugh. “Those are usually either really good—or really bad.”
He seemed to accept that answer.
As they continued down the road, the radio murmured low, static catching between stations as the van ate up miles.
They were heading toward Barstow—a place Duke knew well enough to respect. Transitional. Easy to underestimate. Harder to disappear from than people thought.
They talked through logistics instead—where to park, how long they’d stay, which parts of town made sense to linger in and which didn’t. Enough planning to look normal. Not enough to give anything away.
As the road stretched ahead, Duke leaned back slightly and reached across the narrow space between the seats. Andi’s hand met his without hesitation, her grip firm, grounding.
He held on.
He didn’t know what might transpire either in Barstow or beyond.
But at least he knew none of them were walking into this alone.