Page 140 of Trust No One

“How did they ingest it?”

“Maria’s in her wine. Gabe’s anxiety pills are being tested. And I don’t know yet how Amy was poisoned. The ME can check her stomach contents.”

“When did Amy die?”

“At least a week ago.”

“After the tea and cookies?”

“I’m not sure.”

Judson and I hadn’t spoken seriously in years. Back then hormones raged. We were always primed, ready to get naked and tumble onto a blanket. Even then, he was never rushed. His mouth on me, kissing my neck, my breasts, my stomach. How embarrassingly wet I’d been as he tasted all of me.

Only when I begged would he finally enter me. I’d savored the way my body had stretched to accommodate his. When I came, he’d watch, his gaze glistening with arrogance. And then he’d move in and out of me faster and faster until he came.

Judson stilled as if he’d sensed my thoughts. He had to remember what we’d shared.

I shifted. My habit of wanting what I couldn’t have never ended well. “I’m going to have Gabe and Maria buried in the Hale cemetery. Together.”

He swallowed whatever thoughts he had as he looked past to the child sitting six inches from the TV. “You sure about that?”

“Yes. It’ll be best in the long run.”

“Fair enough. Let me know when.”

“I will.”

“I’ll have that locksmith here in the next couple of hours,” Judson said.

“Thanks.”

“I want to see the attic,” he said.

He let the words trail. But I understood the meaning. Whoever was doing this could be after Molly and me.

Chapter Fifty-One

Pete Miller

Thursday, October 22, 2026, 2:30 p.m.

Pete tugged on his pants, glanced over his shoulder at the woman tangled in the sheets, curled on her side. Time in jail had left him impatient, too eager. He’d shoved inside her hard, but no matter how she’d moaned and pretended, he couldn’t come.

The lack of release tore at him. Frustrated, he wrapped his hands around her neck. She smiled, at first. The occasional game was part of the job, right?

When his fingers tightened, the smile vanished. She tensed. Clawed at his fingers.

Dread. He could smell it. And it excited him. He squeezed harder, savoring the way the tendons in her neck strained against his calloused hands.

Her eyes widened with fear. Silent pleas.

“Raine,” he said.

She shook her head.

“Liar,” he countered.

He gripped harder. Her face reddened. Her eyes rolled back in her head.