Page 61 of Find Me

Lindsay held her hands up in a T. “Stop. Everyone stop. No one’s going to the police. Hope, please, sit down. They’re right. You’d be giving yourself up for nothing and could face felony murder charges. What about this woman, TC? Do we need to worry about her?”

“She passed away several years ago,” Jess said.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she mustered. “But that means you’re really the only one alive who can definitively place yourself, Hope, and Alex at that house the night of the shooting.”

“And I assure you I have absolutely no plans to do that.” Jess Hatcher’s tone was softer than his sister’s. “I came to terms with what happened a long time ago. I still feel guilty sometimes that the case never got solved, but we were practically kids at the time. A life sentence for being in the wrong place at the wrong time? What kind of system is that?”

Hope turned to Lindsay. “I think we should tell them,” she said softly.

“Tell us what?” Ellie insisted. “I thought we were on the same pagehere. My brother did not have to help you. We’re either all in, or I’m going to find a way to make life very difficult for both of you.”

Lindsay had no doubt the detective would be true to her word. It was a good thing they were on the same side now. “I located Alex Lopez’s older sister,” she said. “Her name’s Emilia. She told me Richard Mullaney assaulted her when she was fourteen years old—at that camp we talked about. Alex recognized Mullaney’s pictures at the house. That’s why he flew into a rage.”

“Oh shit.” Jess Hatcher gave her an anguished look. “If I had known, I might have joined in.”

“So if Lopez was the one who killed Mullaney,” Ellie said, “his sister’s abuse would be a powerful motive.”

Lindsay felt Hope’s eyes on her again. She nodded for her to pick up the narrative.

“It’s not a matter ofif,” Hope said. “Alex admitted to his sister that he was the one who pulled the trigger—an accident, he said, after the two of them got into a struggle in the driveway. He called her two weeks ago, saying he had decided to confess. No one saw him again until they pulled his body from the water.”

“Andthat”—Lindsay held up an index finger for emphasis—“is another reason why neither of you should tell anyone what you know about that night. Someone obviously doesn’t want the truth about Mullaney’s murder to come out.”

Jess looked up at the ceiling until the full impact of Lindsay’s statement seemed to dawn on him. “Oh Jesus. Melanie Locke?” He lowered his voice, even though it was only the four of them in the room. “Is that seriously what we’re talking about here?”

Ellie rose from her seat and began pacing the path between the living room and kitchen. “I knew a girl in school who said her sister had something happen to her at that camp, but her name wasn’t Lopez. So there could be other victims—not just Emilia.”

“We’re working on that,” Lindsay said. “I think it’s possible Melanie Locke has been paying them to keep quiet.”

“But if Alex had come forward—,” Ellie said.

“No more Senate campaign. No more book tours. Maybe even no more LockeHome.”

Jess looked up at his sister. “What if we call—”

Ellie shut down the idea with a stern shake of her head.

“We can’t pull anyone else into this yet,” Lindsay said. “I do have one idea, though. Melanie Locke is speaking at Wharton Business School tonight. It’s open to the public.” She had found the information on Melanie’s campaign website.

“What time?” Ellie asked.

“Six thirty,” she said, “but it’s scheduled to last an hour.” Philadelphia was two hours away. “My car’s out front.”

36

Wednesday, June 23, 7:24 p.m.

“So if you were president—” The questioner had to have been in her late eighties, wearing an oversize black linen sundress and hot-pink Crocs. She looked tiny in the well of the lecture hall, taking her turn at the mic. “Would you do for all workers what you’ve done at LockeHome—equal pay for equal work? Because we sure as hell have waited long enough!”

When the audience broke out in cheers, the woman turned to face her new admirers and pumped her fists in the air as she returned to her third-row seat.

Lindsay turned her head to see Ellie Hatcher smiling. They had slipped into the back of the room ten minutes earlier during the applause that followed Melanie Locke’s speech, blending into the standing-room-only crowd.

Melanie Locke was as effortlessly put-together as she always appeared on television. Her hair, dark-brown with just the right number of highlights, swooped perfectly into place at the neckline of a purple sheath dress that showed off tanned, toned arms.

“Well, first of all, thank you very much for that question and foryour absolutely infectious enthusiasm. Can I take you on the campaign trail with me?”

The older woman raised one hand in the air from her seat while she let out a wolf whistle with the other.

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