Page 13 of What They'll Say About Us

"Of course," Cassidy said. "We'll do the panel, and then we can check out Paige's brother."

"Thanks. We'll touch base later."

I felt relieved when Cassidy and Morgan left the suite, hoping the quiet would give me a chance to get my thoughts in order, but as I looked at the list of names and thought about the people I'd known, some better than others, my head started to spin. I needed to talk to as many of them as I could, but I wasn't ready to do that yet, so I grabbed my phone and bag and headed out the door before I could change my mind.

Thankfully, I was able to leave the hotel without running into anyone I knew, and I grabbed a cab out front, asking for them to take me to the police headquarters in Evanston. Before we did anything else, I needed to know how willing or unwilling the police were to consider reopening the case.

When I arrived, I had to wait about ten minutes before I was ushered into Detective Barclay's office. Colton Barclay was probably a few years older than me, in his mid-thirties, with blond hair and blue eyes. He was surprisingly attractive in his slacks and button-down shirt, a badge hanging on his belt. I hadn't expected that, but his wary and annoyed expression didn't surprise me at all.

"Ms. Conway," he said. "I've heard your name mentioned a few times this morning."

"Really? Why is that?" I asked warily.

"Some of the people who work here are fans of your podcast, and since you announced you're looking into the death of Paige MacIntyre, a case handled by our office, that was of particular interest to us."

"I know that Detective Cabot retired three years ago, but I'm hoping you might be able to tell me more about the investigation back then."

He waved me into the chair in front of his desk, then took a seat behind it. "Since you were part of that investigation, I'm not sure I have anything to say you don't already know."

"I doubt that's true. I had a very short interview with Detective Cabot."

"Yes, I read your statement just now to refresh my memory. You were the last person Ms. MacIntyre called before she died. But the call went to voicemail, and no message was left. There was no evidence that you called her back."

"I didn't. I never spoke to her. And that fact has haunted me for a long time." I paused. "Was there any evidence to suggest it wasn't an accident?"

"If there was, the conclusion would have been different."

"Her family doesn't believe that conclusion. They're hoping you'll reopen the case."

"What reason would I have to do that? Is there any new information? A witness who didn't come forward before? Is there something you have to say?"

As his sharp, penetrating gaze met mine, I felt uneasy and wondered if putting myself in this particular hot seat had been a good move, but I was here now. I had to make the most of it. "I don't know anything beyond what I knew before…at least, not yet. I'm hoping that attention on the case might bring some new witnesses forward or lead to information that you didn't have before."

"If that happens, I'll look into it. In the meantime, I have a stack of open cases to solve, ones with actual killers to be found."

"You have no doubt whatsoever about your predecessor's conclusion?" I challenged. "Because I don't remember Detective Cabot being that interested in finding out anything. He asked me three questions: Why didn't I answer her call? Did I call her back? Did I know what she wanted to talk to me about? That was it."

"What should he have asked you?"

I stiffened, realizing I'd walked right into that question. "I'm just saying he didn't try to figure out the relationship that Paige had with me or with anyone in her life. I obviously didn't know what happened to her, but if he didn't ask anyone else anything beyond the basics, maybe he missed something."

"Until you can show me something he missed, I'm going to assume he asked all the right questions."

"You don't have to assume. You have the case file. I'd like to get a copy of that."

"You can file a request online. Some of the personal information of witnesses will be redacted, of course."

"Is there any way you can expedite my request?"

He gave me a thoughtful look. "Right now, you seem intent on proving that my department made a mistake. Why would I want to help you?"

"To prove me wrong. If you don't have anything to hide, why obstruct my investigation?"

"Your investigation?" he challenged. "What qualifies you to investigate? You're in a podcast that talks about crime cases like they're the latest reality TV show, but these are real people. There are real families who can be hurt by your inquiry."

"Paige's sister requested my help. She wants the public attention."

"Because she's desperate to find someone to blame. I can understand that. But that doesn't mean there is someone to blame. Tell me something, do you want this to be a homicide investigation? Because there's a good chance that if Ms. MacIntyre did not fall into that lake by accident, she knew the person who shoved her in, and that might mean you know them, too."