Page 18 of Hidden Truths

Max studied the upright back of the prisoner. He was pretty damned sure that, despite the dark hair and small-boned frame, this was not Mara Philippi. Her shoulders hunched with tension. Mara Philippi wouldn’t be tense. She would be thrilled to see him, to have the chance to somehow torment him.

Officer Rinaldo came back with an electronic card and a large brass key. She grinned when he lifted his eyebrows. “At McFarrellville Federal Correctional Facility, we cover all the bases.” She inserted the card into the reader and the key into the old-fashioned lock. She opened the door.

The woman who claimed to be Mara Philippi shot to her feet and turned to face Officer Rinaldo.

Officer Rinaldo slammed the door, shutting herself in, blocking Max’s view. When she took another step, the Mara imitator turned her shoulder to him.

This was his chance. He had to see hernow. He said, “It’s not her.”

“How do you know?” Officer Rinaldo asked.

“Too tall.”

His gamble worked. The prisoner looked right at Max, her expression the picture of desperation and bitterness.

He spoke right to her. “My mistake. Youareabout the same height—but you are not Mara Philippi.”

Damn it.Damn it.She looked a lot like her, but she really and truly wasn’t Mara.

The woman who was not Mara now realized she’d been tricked, and with a snarl, she flung herself at Officer Rinaldo, knocking her flat on her back.

Officer Rinaldo hit her head against the linoleum floor.

Max thought she had been knocked out.

But Officer Rinaldo was a fighter. She slammed the flat of her hand under the false Mara’s chin, snapping her head back, then kneed her in the stomach and flipped her onto her back. She pressed her stick against Mara’s throat and said, “Honey, I don’t know who you are, but you’re going to get all the prison time you want.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

MAXWALKEDOUTof the prison at 2:14 p.m.

Once Officer Rinaldo had been satisfied that Max knew what he was talking about, and that the prisoner wasn’t Mara Philippi, she had hustled him to the door and told him to get out of town. She was smart enough to be scared.

He was scared, too.

Mara Philippi hadn’t escaped on her own. She had been a master of manipulating people around her; whoever had arranged for her to be traded for a look-alike would kill to hide their crime.

As far as he knew Warden Arbuckle or Assistant Warden Korthauer were still locked in the warden’s office arguing with the federal government. One of them, or both of them, were guilty.

As soon as Max got to the parking lot, beyond the reach of the prison’s Wi-Fi dampening field, he pulled out his phone and sent Nils Brooks a message.

Mara Philippi a fake.

Nils texted back,Not what I wanted to hear.

That would be enough to get justice moving in the right direction.

MAXPARKEDHISrental car in the Aloha Motel parking lot in the shade of the single tree and trudged across the hot, sticky asphalt to the door of his room. This morning, in his rush to view Mara, he’d left everything behind: his backpack, his toothbrush, his photo of Kellen and Rae, his tire iron under the bed.

Now he intended to collect his belongings and leave McFarrellville before the shit hit the fan. After his text to Nils Brooks, it would. He had no doubt it would, but he did wonder, in the end, where the shit would land and stick.

He used the key card to open the door and walked into a cleaned room. All the blinds were closed. The bed had been made up. His scattered belongings had been stowed in his backpack.

He stopped in his tracks.

Which was okay, except it appeared that someone intended it to look as if he’d never been here.

Uh-oh.

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