‘It’s him, isn’t it?’ Novak’s eyes were fastened on to hers.
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. All around her, the babble of voices roared and faded.
Novak leaned forward, bending low across the table.
‘I need to know. Is it him?’
She gave a brief nod, her fist still pressed against her mouth. Novak exhaled a long breath. Then he hiked his chair in closer and jabbed a finger at the photo.
‘See the date? In the bottom corner? That was taken less than two weeks ago.’
Jodie shook her head. ‘That’s a mistake. A fake.’
‘That date is genuine. Frankly, I wouldn’t know how to fake it, and my contact has no reason to lie.’
She shook her head again. Managed a whisper. ‘It’s impossible. His body—’
‘There was another car. There had to be.’
Jodie frowned, dazed. ‘What?’
‘Ethan’s car had overturned, hurtled into the ditch. Why? Because he’d swerved to avoid another vehicle.’
‘He was speeding, I’d shot him—’
He waved that aside. ‘The guy in the other car was dead or hurt or something, it doesn’t matter which. So Ethan just switched places.’
Jodie’s brain felt sluggish. Novak rushed on.
‘He dragged the guy into his own car, maybe even switched clothes, then shot him in the back of the head. He pulled you clear, along with his own jacket and ID to make sure that stayed intact. Then he fired a round into the gas tank to incinerate the body, and took off in the other car.’
Novak sat back, his arms spread out in a hey-presto gesture. Jodie kneaded her forehead, trying to process the information, sifting out the feasible from the far-fetched and wondering how to tell the difference.
She stared at the photo of Ethan and clenched her teeth. Novak dragged a hand through his hair and got ready to drive the point home.
‘Look, it explains the two extra shots from the gun. Ethan was the one who fired into the gas tank, and the other bullet was for the guy in the car.’ He started counting things off on his fingers. ‘Ethan’s finances were threatening to come crashing down, you were going to leave him, Abby was gone, you’d contacted the DA and accused him of murder. What better way to solve all his problems than to disappear? He was never going to get a better opportunity.’
‘But the dental records—’
‘Zach Caruso.’
‘The sheriff?’
‘Sure. He was in charge of the investigation, he’d plenty of opportunity to falsify evidence. I bet if we dug around, we’d find his grubby prints all over this.’
‘But why?’
‘You’re forgetting he was heavily involved in the same fraud as Ethan. Maybe Ethan contacted him later that night, strong-armed him into it. Threatened him with exposure if he didn’t cooperate.’
Jodie’s head felt log-jammed. Her eyes flicked back to the photo. Was Ethan really alive after all this time? While her Abby was still dead? The queasiness in her gut swirled some more. She glanced at Novak, who was watching her closely, and shook her head again.
‘You said he pulled me clear of the car. Why would he do that? Why didn’t he just kill me too?’
‘Because you were the clincher. A witness to his death. Think about it. You’d recover from the crash believing you’d shot him. Your letter to the DA would predispose the authorities to believe it too, not to mention prove the case against you. Ethan knew you wouldn’t deny it. What better way to convince people he was really dead than have you admit to the police that you killed him?’ He glanced at his surroundings. ‘Plus, I guess he got to punish you by sending you in here.’
A shiver twitched down Jodie’s spine, sending ripples along her arms that made her hands tremble. She slapped the photo down on the table, shoved it away. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.
Novak narrowed his eyes.
‘What, you think he wasn’t capable? He wasn’t devious enough to pull off a stunt like that? Or ruthless enough? You think he didn’t have the cunning to spot his chance and cook up a scheme to exploit it?’
Jodie squeezed her eyes shut, the simmering nausea threatening to come to the boil. She whispered, ‘He was a liar, not Houdini.’
‘He was a twisted, clever, conniving man, and you know it.’
He grabbed her hand, and her eyes flew open. He jammed the photo between her fingers, clenching his hands over hers. He thrust the photo up close, his hands warm and rough.
‘Look at him. Look at him! He’s alive, you know he is. Look at him and tell me he’s not capable of doing this.’
Ethan’s face filled her vision: the sculptured bone structure, the dark brows, the familiar smirk nudging his tired lines into folds.
‘I stayed there in the boat until it was all over … you’ll never see her again.’
She shut her eyes, shook her head. Tried to drive Ethan’s voice away.
‘You’ve brought this all on yourself, Jodie … If it wasn’t for you, Abby would still be alive.’
She choked back the urge to scream, every cell in her body clenched tight.
‘No one can prove anything.’
Jodie snapped her eyes open. Something icy stole over her, and she felt her jaw lock down tight. She stared at the photo. Novak was right. If anyone could have pulled off a conjuring trick like that, it was Ethan.
He was still alive.
Impossible! She’d killed him!
But her gut felt cold.
The bastard was still alive.
She lifted her chin, gave Novak a long, steady look.
‘If he’s alive, then where is he now?’
He released her hand. ‘I don’t know. That’s why I’m here. You know his friends, habits, contacts, family. I wanted you to help me track him down.’
Slowly, Jodie nodded. ‘I see.’
Possibilities formed and shifted in her head. Something stony and primitive hardened inside her, crystallizing the answer to the cardinal question: what’s worth living for, what’s worth dying for?
Eventually, she said, ‘Okay, Mr Novak. If he’s really alive, I’ll help you find him.’
And when she found him again, she would kill him. For good, this time.
‘Anyone ever break out of here, Dixie?’
Jodie stared at the horizon through the chain-linked fence, and figured she already knew the answer. Beside her, Dixie was stamping her feet to keep warm.
‘Are you crazy? Have you taken a look around here lately?’
Jodie shrugged and blew on her hands, her breath clouding up around her like a facial steam bath. The view through the fence resolved into a mesh of diamond shapes, a bleak jigsaw of stretching, snowy scrub