Page 29 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

Files were scattered over the surface of my desk again, despite the hour I’d spent organizing last night. I still hadn’t made it through the past three months’ worth of cases, but I’d asked Janice to pull another three anyway, expanding my window to six months.

Janice had delivered this morning. On top of them were the files of each suicide in Quincy.

Seven deaths.

I’d read through each report three times already, hoping that it would squash this uneasy feeling. It hadn’t. What was I missing? Something, right?

I shoved off the door and walked to my chair, setting my coffee aside. Then I picked up the phone and dialed the number I’d been meaning to call for a week.

“Cole Goodman,” he answered.

I smiled at his warm voice. “Hey.”

“Who is this?”

“Funny,” I deadpanned. “You better not have forgotten about me already.”

He chuckled. “Never. Is this your new work number?”

“Yep. I think my personal phone was swallowed up by the unpacked boxes at home. I haven’t seen it for days.”

“Sounds about right,” he teased.

Cole had spent many hours listening to me complain that I’d lost my personal phone. In my defense, I had yet to misplace my station cell or a radio.

Organization wasn’t necessarily a weakness. I could be organized. But I didn’t mind a little chaos either. When my focus was on one lane, everything else became a little blurry. Unpacking and finding my phone just didn’t seem as important as wrapping my head around Lily Green’s death.

“I was just thinking about you,” he said. “How’d the first week go?”

“It was, um . . . interesting.”

“Uh-oh. What’s going on?”

I sighed and the truth came rushing out. “No one likes me here. I keep getting looks like I’m too young for this job and only got it because of Pops.”

“You knew this wouldn’t be easy.”

“I know,” I muttered. “I just . . . hoped.”

“Hang in there. It’s only been a week. You’re a great cop. Give them time to see that.”

All things I’d told myself, but somehow hearing them from Cole gave me a boost of confidence.

Cole had been my mentor in Bozeman. When I’d been promoted to detective, he’d been there to help me every step along the way. Whenever I had a difficult case, Cole was my go-to person to talk it through.

In our years working together, he’d become more than a colleague. He was also a cherished friend. His wife, Poppy, owned my favorite restaurant in Bozeman. Their kids were the sweetest souls on earth. When I’d lost my own family, his had been there to see me through the darkest days.

“I miss you guys. I’m homesick for the Goodmans.”

“We miss you too. Poppy was talking about taking a weekend trip to visit.”

“I’d love it.” For them, I’d actually unpack my house.

“Tell me about the station.”

“Actually, if you have a few minutes, can I run something by you?”

“Always.”