Page 5 of In the Dark of the Past

The air crackled, old wounds bleeding under the surface. Myra broke the silence, her voice dry. “You joining us, Callahan, or just here to brood?”

Laughter scattered the tension, and Finn slid into the booth’s edge, across the way yet still too close for comfort. Cade brought over a beer from the bar for him, and conversation resumed, but I felt his eyes. Watching, waiting.

When Cade rang out for last call, I wasn’t sure I’d ever been more relieved.

Chapter Three

River

A week later, the house was finally starting to feel a little more like mine. I’d picked up a handful of regular in-person clients and successfully transitioned all of my virtual ones, and things were slowly settling into place.

Tonight was my first Murder of the Month Club meeting, and I couldn’t deny the excitement. It was such a weird, cool thing to be a part of.

Over the past few days, I’d heard more details about the cases they’d helped close and the ones they’d gotten reopened. It only sharpened my interest and deepened my desire to help. I’d spent years absorbed in true-crime documentaries and podcasts, always fascinated but slightly disconnected. And I still had a Google alert set up for news on that Broadway actor who suddenly went missing.

Now, I had a reason to dive in. And an entire team backing me.

Clarice Starling, eat your heart out.

I pulled on a pair of cute but comfy skinny jeans, a fitted cami, and a lightweight button-down, slipped into my most comfortable combat boots, and headed out to the library. Tonight’s meeting was in the basement archives, and thankfully, they’d let me off the hook for snacks this time. Next round, I’d have to get creative.

Maybe I’d make true-crime cookies. Perhaps chalk outlines and blood-spatter frosting. Go full-on themed bake-sale-meets-serial-killer chic.

The library was usually locked by now, but Libby had told me she kept the doors open until eight. Anyone running late would have to call for entry. I was early, at least.

I stepped inside and was immediately hit with the scent of paper, leather, and ink. Comfort in its purest form. There was something about being surrounded by books that soothed the soul.

I made my way to the back of the library, where the door to the basement waited just beyond the stacks. As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard laughter, soft conversation, and the hum of voices rising and falling from below.

I almost felt like I should be walking into an AA meeting or something, but this wasn’t just a club gathering. I was entering into something that actually had the capacity for change.

The basement smelled like old newspapers and dust, but it was still cozy with a huge area rug and some mismatched tables and chairs set up amid the bookshelves and cabinets. It was kind of perfect for a meeting about unsolved crimes, and I had to wonder if they always met here or if the location changed.

I stepped off the last stair and took in the gathered crowd, trying not to feel like the new kid. A few lamps threw golden light across the space, softening the room’s more shadowed corners yet keeping the ambience for what we were about to embark on.

“River!” Libby beamed from her perch on the edge of the table when she noticed me. She kicked her feet and jumped down. “You’re early. I’m so proud.”

I gave her a look. “You make it sound like I’m always late or something.”

“I mean…if the shoe fits.” She smiled.

“She was actually earlier than you told her to meet us at the bar, too,” Autumn said with a shrug, the light glinting off her tortoise shell frames.

“Yeah, see?” I held out a hand to Autumn for a fist bump. “At least somebody’s got my back.” I raised a brow in Libby’s direction.

“Okay. Fine. But we’ll see how long it lasts. Back in the day, I swore you’d be late to your own funeral.” Libby turned back to the assembled group.

I slid into a chair near Cade and tried to act normal. “So, how does this usually work?”

“We gossip. We eat. We drink. Then we solve crime,” Rand said with a grin, tossing a bag of caramel popcorn onto the table. “In that order.”

Nivea rolled her eyes but flashed a smile. “We’re organized chaos, basically. But don’t worry, it’s not too crazy. And you’ll fit right in.”

“Where’s my welcome gift?” I asked jokingly.

“You get to bring snacks next time,” Myra said, pulling her auburn hair into a low ponytail and flashing me a smile that reached her sea-green eyes. She looked adorable in a fitted velour tracksuit and lightweight sneakers. “Welcome. And congratulations.”

I laughed, relaxing a bit as mixed conversations bounced around the room. Libby sat beside me and pulled a stack of folders out of her messenger bag.