Page 69

She remembered my name.

She remembered my voice.

She called me when she was running for her life.

“She knew me,” I say.

Taylor glances over.

“What?”

“On the phone. I never told her who answered.”

Arthur goes still.

“She said your name?”

“Yes.”

“You hadn’t spoken in eighteen years.”

“No.”

Taylor’s hands tighten around the steering wheel.

“She knew your voice.”

The words hit harder coming from him.

“Yes.”

Nobody says anything after that.

We drive.

Twenty-three minutes later, Vega’s brake lights flash.

Taylor slows.

Her SUV pulls onto the shoulder.

We stop behind her.

I’m out before Vega reaches us.

“What happened?”

“Deputies are four miles from the mine.”

“Then why are we stopping?”

“Because one of them found something.”

She holds out her phone.

A photograph fills the screen.

A dark sedan.