After checking into my hotel near LAX, I had no idea where to go first. I pulled open my notepad and scanned the different locations Leo mentioned from time to time. He had a thing for the city of Santa Monica. Thankfully, I’d rented a vehicle with GPS.
When Leo and I dated as teenagers, he mentioned how he loved Ferris wheels. Something about being able to sit up high and look down on people. A hint at a superiority complex? If that was still a fascination of his, the best place to do so was at the Santa Monica pier.
One would think that after what happened at the cabin I would have kept my distance from Leo. Deep down, I was scared to death of seeing him again. But with Matt’s death I realized that justice wouldn’t be served—not for the runaway found butchered on Belle Isle, not for April, and not for Matt—until I faced my fear.
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