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murder was an entirely different thing from breaking a few rules or stepping on a few toes to get ahead. Bart wasn’t worth the risk.

“Thanks for coming in,” Walt Stanfield shook her hand, and they both sat. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Hoping an arrest has knocked some sanity into him.”

“Me too. What do you know about his first wife?”

The question surprised Celia. “Not much. I know they were married for five years. She had a car accident. He apparently is still close to her family.”

“Actually, he’s not. They don’t think too much of him, but he tends to show up at public events. Likes to keep an eye on them.”

“That’s weird.”

“Indeed. And I got an accident report. It’s a little strange.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was driving a curvy road at night. But there weren’t really a lot of skid marks. No real evidence, but you can’t rule out car tampering just reading the report.”

“No one investigated?”

“At the time, it seemed clear, I guess. Bart seemed devastated. That road was known for accidents. Nobody really pushed. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have either. But looking at it in light of his stalking...”

“It makes you wonder. Yeah, I get it. How was their marriage?”

“No idea. But I’m going to try to find out. If my gut is right, you need to be very careful.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for filling me in.”

He nodded. “I know Keith has been helping you out. I really wish you’d stay with him a little while longer.”

“I can’t do that. I’m not going to hide in someone else’s house.”

“Okay then. Just be aware of your surroundings at all times. Call if you even think something is off.”

“I will.”

Celia drove back to her office, her mind spinning a bit. What the hell had she gotten into when she agreed to go out with Bart? Were there red flags she had missed? She really couldn’t think of any. He seemed normal, charming if a little overly affectionate. His connection with his former wife’s family had seemed endearing. Now it just seemed creepy. Hoping he murdered her was a bit morbid, but Celia was hoping that was the case and that Stanfield found evidence to support it. The reality was that Bart would never stay behind bars for stalking. But he would for murder.

It occurred to her that her father might know more details about the accident, so Celia called him, not knowing whether he was still in the city or not.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

“It’s Celia.”

“Oh! I didn’t recognize this number. It’s good to hear from you.”

“I changed it. Sorry I didn’t let you know.”

“Did you change it -”

“Because of Bart, yes. Look, we may have a way of getting him. Apparently, Judith’s family isn’t alone in wondering about her accident.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but I need to talk to you again. Are you still in town?”

“I’ll be here three more days. How about dinner?”

“Sounds good.”

“I have to meet a couple of clients tonight, but we could meet tomorrow night if that works for you.”

“Perfect. There’s a place my friend owns. I’ll text you the address. 7:00?”

“I’ll see you then.”

Celia ended the call and smiled. Between the police, Stewart, and her special folder, there was finally a light at the end of the crazy tunnel. She headed to Keith’s house feeling very hopeful.

Chapter 28

Celia had hoped to get away from Keith’s house before dark, but he had grilled salmon, so she couldn’t resist staying for dinner. By the time they had eaten and cleaned things up, it was after 8:00. She thanked him again for his hospitality and headed to her house, glad that she’d be sleeping in her own bed again.

When she was about halfway home, Celia noticed a car following her a little too closely. Ugh, she hated tailgaters. After a mile or two, she got tired of being blinded by the driver’s halogen lights, and she lightly tapped her brakes, hoping they would back off a bit. It worked, and she was glad to be rid of the blinding light. However, then Celia noticed the car, a nondescript sedan, made every turn she made.

Was it Bart? It couldn’t be, could it? He drove a Mercedes, and he enjoyed the status of nice things. He wouldn’t own a car like the one behind her. But she knew she wasn’t imagining being followed. She’d made too many turns for it to be a coincidence. Celia decided that if someone was going to follow her, they’d be following her to the police station. She adjusted her route accordingly.

When she was a few blocks away from the station, the sedan moved to the right lane; apparently, he had realized where Celia was going. The light turned yellow and then red, and they both stopped. Celia wanted to stare straight ahead, but she couldn’t resist a glance to her right.

It was Bart. He was staring straight ahead, but he seemed to sense it when Celia looked at him, and he turned his head. He smiled and waved. Celia quickly dug through her purse to grab her camera so that she could take a photo. But as she held it up to take Bart’s picture, he turned right onto another street.

“Psycho,” Celia said, gunning her engine when the light turned green. She drove to the station, walked inside, and asked for Walt. Within a couple of minutes, he was out front to greet her.

“Ms. Brockwell, is everything okay?”

“Bart tried to follow me home. Once I realized I was being followed, I just drove here.”

“Why don’t you come on back, and I’ll take your statement.”

They walked back to Walt’s desk, and Celia sat in a folding chair.

“So tell me exactly what happened. Start at the beginning.”

“Well,” Celia began. “I left Keith’s place a little after 8:00. I was planning to go back home to stay.”

“When did you notice someone behind you?”

“I guess a couple of miles from Keith’s. A car started tailgating me, and he had those awful headlights.”

“Halogen, yeah. People complain about those all

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