Page 44 of Pretty Cruel Love

“It’s fuzzy at best.” She plays along. “One was an interim principal at her high school for like two years, but there’s no record she ever got into trouble there, so… I doubt they ever met.”

“And the other two?”

“Jonathan Baylor was a distant classmate. Plenty of people testified they ran in completely different social circles and barely spoke. Forensics combed through their phones—no texts, no calls, not even mutual follows on social media.”

“And Jonathan’s dad?”

“He and Mr. Sorenson just came home at the wrong time. There’s zero connection.”

I absorb the information for the millionth time, scan every inch of the wall, and sigh.

“So after years of living free and clear,” I say, “Sadie just randomly commits a triple homicide in broad daylight?”

“Off the record? It never made much sense to me.” She pauses. “But DNA doesn’t lie. And neither do cameras…”

I strum my fingers against my desk, annoyed that she’s back to the circular reasoning.

Then again, I can’t blame her.

With this evidence, it only took nine minutes for a conviction.

Faster than a pizza delivery…

“Okay, fine, Dr. Weiss.” Robin moves to the other end of the wall. “Let’s say Sadie really didn’t do it. Instead of poking holes in her story, let’s try writing in the missing chapters.”

“I’m listening.” I open a folder. “Keep talking.”

“One thing that’s always bothered me: She somehow managed to kill three grown men and not one of them restrained her? None of them fought back? Doesn’t that seem… weird?”

“Very weird. But wait.” I flip through the autopsy reports. “Jonathan did fight back. He had defensive cuts.”

“Please.” She scoffs. “He was two-fifty. Sadie weighs one-hundred-sixty pounds soaking wet.”

“One-hundred-forty-five,” I correct her.

“Point is—” She waves it off. “He could’ve tossed her off like a ragdoll. There wasn’t enough alcohol in his system to slow him down.”

I nod. I’ve always had the same question. It’s good to hear someone else say it out loud.

“There was DNA from dozens of people in that house—literally hundreds.”

“The mayor threw a party there two nights before.”

“What if one of the guests stayed behind and killed them? Not Sadie.”

“The housekeepers would've stumbled onto the bodies and called 9-1-1,” I say. “I’ve considered that theory too.”

“Let’s consider it again.” She cracks her knuckles. “I’ll rewatch the surveillance footage. You go check in on Sadie.”

“Thanks, Robin.”

“You’re welcome.”

I stand and grab my briefcase, heading for the door.

“Dr. Weiss?” she calls after me when I’m halfway down the hall.

“Yes?”

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