Page 24 of Killer Knows Best

Nikki and Jack huddle close as their eyes scan the pages along with me. We settle in on an entry just a few days before everything went sideways.

October 1st

I don’t know how much longer I can keep covering for Gwen. She’s in deep, and every time she promises she’s done, something else pops up. More money owed. More calls at all hours. I don’t know how she can even sleep. I don’t know how Ican sleep. I hardly have enough for rent, and food is basically a luxury at this point.

Gwen mentioned someone today. She said this woman could help us out—get her out of the hole she’s in and me, too. Someone named K (I’ve been sworn to secrecy). I can’t even breathe the woman’s name or I might get myself killed. She’s “connected.” Whatever that means. Sounds shady, but Gwen swears she’s one of the good guys. I told her I don’t want to get involved, but honestly I don’t think I can afford not to.

Gwen is already knee-deep in this mess. She just won’t admit it. And now it looks as if so am I.

~D

October 3rd

I’m getting desperate. I just need to get ahead and I swear I will never even look at my credit card again. Gwen promised that even one night can take care of my problems. I’ll admit, it’s not easy seeing Gwen swimming in cash every time K hooks her up. If I had half the money Gwen earns, I’d be on Easy Street. Too bad she blows it all up her nose. She’s never going to get ahead that way if she doesn’t end up dead first. I keep asking her to quit, to get help, but she brushes me off. She always does this. She acts like everything is fineand she’s got it under control. But I can see it—she’s cracking.

XOXO D

October 4th

I’m in. I told Gwen I’d do it. Just once, and then if I can stomach it, or survive, I’ll do it a few more times until I can get my head above water. She says K specializes in top-notch clientele, that we’ll be well taken care of. Gross. Anyway, Gwen sent a text around two in the morning saying we got the green light for tonight. I’m freaking out. What if I’m in danger? What if I wake up tomorrow and hate myself for the rest of my life?

What if I never wake up.

~ D

“And she didn’t,”I whisper.

The room feels smaller suddenly, and quieter. Holding this journal makes it feel as if whatever happened to these girls is right there with us, hovering just out of reach. But now maybe we’re one step closer to getting to the truth.

“Come on,” Jack says, pulling me in. “Let’s finish up and then we’ll pore over every last inch of that journal.”

We finish up and take off into the frozen Colorado night.

Delaney was in danger. Deep down, she knew what she was doing was wrong. But she was desperate.

I hate that about this world.

I hate that desperation drives people, drives women in particular, to do the most outrageous things.

And right now, I’m desperate, too. I’m desperate to track down Kiki, Karen, K, or whatever she’s going by these days and get some answers from her. I have an entire litany of questions.

And something tells me she’s not going to answer any of them.

18

SPECIAL AGENT FALLON BAXTER

The next day rolls into evening and I’m mid-page in Delaney’s journal for the fiftieth time with my fingers tracing the edges of her hurried handwriting when my phone buzzes.

It’s Hale.

Gunther is active in Elmwood. Get down there.

I swear under my breath. Buddy’s eyes are glued to the Animal Channel, and he doesn’t even spare me a glance as I slip on my jacket.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” I mutter, though he’s more focused on a segment about lions chasing a gazelle than he is in listening to me. Typical. “Let’s go, Buddy. Duty calls.”

Within seconds, Jack’s horn blares outside with three solid beeps. He’s not known for patience. But I do appreciate his punctuality.

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