CHAPTER 10
By the time we pulled into the parking lot across from McFadden’s office building, most of the cars had already left. But McFadden remained.
We did not have long to wait, though, before we spotted McFadden leaving the building and heading to his car. Host started the pick-up. As soon as McFadden left the parking lot, we followed.
I assumed McFadden was going home. That thought disappeared as we went past Mission Hills and on for another twenty minutes. Finally, we pulled into a residential neighborhood. This time the area was familiar—remarkably familiar—and gave me phantom chills.
Oh, God. What is he doing in my neighborhood? Please no.
Host did not slow down after watching McFadden park his car in my driveway. Instead, we drove past my house.
Where are the kids? She must
