Page 54 of Broken Silence
His boss wiped his hands on a napkin, tearing it up in the process. “It’s unorthodox, but the mayor seems set on the matter.”
A point that frustrated Liam to no end. Mayor Calhoun had already shared the news with the city council, and rumors were spreading through Knoxville. “That case remains ongoing and unsolved. It’s a mistake to allow a civilian to run around town interviewing people about the murder.” Liam’s expression hardened. “I haven’t given up on finding the killer.”
“I know you haven’t.” Chief Garcia sighed. “Let’s have a meeting about this on Monday. We’ll discuss it then.”
Liam would’ve preferred to settle the matter now, but he knew it wasn’t Chief Garcia’s call. The request for cooperation had come directly from the mayor’s office. Declining it would require a concrete reason—something difficult to produce for a case that had gone stone cold years ago. But Liam was determined to try.
From his way of thinking, it was shameless to use the gruesome details of a young woman’s murder to boost ratingsand line pocketbooks, but he doubted the mayor would agree with him.
So he’d have to find another reason.
Resigning himself to a long weekend reviewing Sarah’s case file, he drove away from the Grahams’ house toward town. The route took him past the cemetery on Route 12. It always did, no matter which direction he was headed. He'd stopped noticing it most days. Tonight, with Sarah's name fresh on his tongue and the frustration of the podcast still simmering, his foot eased off the gas, and he turned in.
The cemetery was quiet in the fading light. He parked near the east gate and sat for a moment, hands on the steering wheel, before climbing out. He didn't have flowers. Hadn't planned on coming. But Sarah wouldn't mind. She'd never been the type to care about gestures.
At least, that's what the case file told him. He'd never actually known her. Not while she was alive, anyway.
The gate squealed on its hinges and then banged shut behind him. Liam traversed the pathway by muscle memory. It wasn’t the first time he’d visited Sarah’s grave. Probably wouldn’t be the last. A giant oak blocked out the last remaining rays of sunlight, and a chill raced down his spine. His lightweight button-down, perfect for a sunny spring day, offered little protection against the rapidly falling temperatures.
The cemetery was silent. No mourners. No groundskeeper. This section was older and often forgotten. Some of the tombstones crumbled from age and time. Sarah's was near the back, tucked next to her maternal grandparents, who’d long since passed.
Hers was a modest stone. Gray granite. Nothing fancy. As far as Liam knew, no one visited this grave.
Except him.
He dusted off the dirt covering her name, tracing the carved letters with his fingers. “Hey, Sarah. It’s been a while, huh?” Memories assaulted his senses. The flashlight beam sweeping across the grass, catching on one pale arm barely visible in the brush. Liam pushed the image away. “We’re coming up on ten years. I don’t know what to say about that, except that I haven’t given up. I’m still fighting. You should know that.”
A slight wind rustled the leaves of the oak tree and sent the overgrown grass tucked up close to Sarah’s grave tilting to one side. A flash of white caught his eye. Something was nestled at the base of the headstone, half-hidden by the grass. Liam leaned closer.
A paper. Weighted down by a rock.
Liam stilled, just staring at it. Then he pushed the rock aside and picked up the paper with the edge of his fingers. It looked clean. Recently placed. Gingerly, using only the edges, he unfolded the sheet.
His breath stalled.
A hand-drawn sketch. Pencil on plain white paper. A small sunflower, delicate and detailed, each petal rendered with care. A replica of the one drawn on Sarah’s hip by her killer. And underneath, scrawled in messy letters, were two words.
I’m sorry.
