Page 59 of You'll Be Sorry

“Detective Adams.” Her voice came out warm. Just being collegial, she told herself.

“Chief Grady. I hear your town’s had some excitement.”

“Oh, never a dull moment.”

Adams’s voice dropped. “A second crime scene? With a skeleton? On the Dixon property?”

She gave him the highlights. Adams let her talk without interrupting, a good trait in a detective.

“I have some news as well,” he said when she was finished. She thought she detected a trace of tension. “Thought it might be easier to deliver in person.” Yep, he definitely sounded nervous. “Would this afternoon work?”

“Sure!” Belatedly she pulled her phone away from her ear long enough to scroll through her calendar. “Any time after twelve should work.”

He named a time; she mentioned they could grab sandwiches at the local deli. He said he was familiar with the area, being an avid hiker and skier.

“Do you have updates on the DNA evidence, or is it about the footprints?” she asked.

That subtle pause again. “Both. I’ll tell you more when I see you.”

Mandy ended the call, no longer feeling quite so certain about things.

They started at the deli, a Main Street establishment that managed to seamlessly offer quaint historic charm for the tourists as well as great food at a reasonable price for the locals. She highly recommended the split pea soup. He added a turkey, fig jam, and goat cheese wrap for them to split.

Finally seeing him in person, Mandy was willing to bet Adams’s parents had named him for the beer, not the statesman. She pegged his age at around late thirties—his short-cropped sandy-brown hair was just beginning to go silver at the temples. A lean guy with a wiry build, he looked the part of an avid outdoorsman, ready to conquer the next mountain at a moment’s notice. He also walked with a subtle limp. Maybe an old skiing injury? Or maybe on-the-job damage that had resulted in his move deskside with the cold case unit. She couldprobably just ask him, but tying herself up in knots seemed to be the theme for the day.

“I met your father once,” Adams told her. He was reaching for his wallet, but she waved him off. Her town, her treat.

“Oh, yeah?”

“At the academy. He presented the Dixon case as an example of multi-jurisdictional cooperation.”

“Uh-oh.”

Adams chuckled. “Actually, he was pretty matter-of-fact on the subject. This is what worked, this is what didn’t. And this is what he’d definitely do differently next time around.”

“And what would that be?”

“Find the damn family,” Adams deadpanned. Mandy had to laugh. Yep, that certainly sounded like her dad.

“How long have you been on the cold case unit?” They walked out of the deli with food in hand. Adams made a move to climb back into his vehicle, but Mandy shook her head.

“See that picturesque deep red bungalow down there with the dark green trim?”

“Sure.”

“Welcome to the Shereford PD. You can just leave your car here. They won’t mind.”

“That’syour police station?”

“We take our small-town charm very seriously, even for law enforcement.”

“No kidding. Huh.” He collected himself. “Has anyone told your growing number of infamous crime scenes that?”

“Only a matter of time before the Chamber of Commerce adds a haunted tour to the October lineup,” she assured him.

They fell in step walking down the sidewalk. She slowed slightly to accommodate his gait. He seemed to notice.

“I’d say you should see the other guy, but there’s no other guy. Just a chainsaw, a downed tree, and my own sorry self in too big of a hurry to do things right.”