The next morning, I received a message from Dawson.
“Megan came home last night,” he wrote.
I frowned.
“Home? I thought she was staying in Chicago.”
“That’s what she told me. But she returned late last night and claimed she’d changed her plans.”
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
“She says she was traveling with you because you needed emotional support.”
I felt sick.
“She wasn’t traveling with me, Dawson. I was visiting my mother.”
“I know that now.”
A few minutes later, he sent a photograph.
It showed Megan’s suitcase beside a hotel receipt.
The receipt had been left in her car, and Dawson had found it while looking for something else.
The hotel was in downtown Chicago.
The date matched the previous evening.
I looked at the photograph for a long time.
Then I checked the time.
Ryan had told me his meetings would last two days.