“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, his gaze never leaving Derek. “He’s desperate. That much we know. The guy’s drowning in debt, going through a nasty divorce, and now his dad’s dead. Maybe that’s all it is.”
They watched Derek wipe his eyes, his head still bent toward the grave.
“I’m not convinced,” Sam said, his voice low. “But I think Derek knows something more than he’s letting on.”
Jo brushed off her hands and folded her arms. “Maybe we push him. See whatcracks.”
“Maybe. But let’s give him some rope. He might hang himself without us having to do a thing.”
Jo sighed, her eyes lingering on the now-empty graveyard. “And Leanne?”
“She’s angry, but I don’t blame her. We need to find that statue. And when we do, we’ll find our killer.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The police station was unusually quiet for a winter morning. Kevin sat at his desk, the faint hum of the heater in the background, tapping a pen against the edge of the table as his eyes flicked back to his screen. The station felt emptier than usual with Sam at Garvin’s funeral, Wyatt out on a call about Nettie Deardorff’s goat, and Reese handling some paperwork in the next room.
It was the perfect moment for Kevin to look into something that had been bothering him all morning.
He slid the two notes closer, carefully comparing them. The first note was the one left on Bridget and Jo’s door, taunting, ominous in its simplicity. The second was the note that had been left on Kevin’s car,warning him about the thumb drive—two seemingly unrelated messages, but now, he wasn’t so sure.
His gut had been nagging at him ever since Bridget mentioned the note they’d found on the door of the cottage. What were the odds of him getting a note on his car and one showing up on Jo’s door? Something didn’t feel right. If these two threats were connected, the implications were terrifying. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the person behind these notes knew more than they were letting on.
Kevin bent closer, eyes narrowing as he studied the handwriting on both notes under the glow of the desk lamp. The letters—sharp, precise—looked eerily similar. He leaned back, his mind racing. No… it couldn’t be.
He grabbed his phone and snapped a photo of each note, pulling up a document on his computer that analyzed handwriting. His heart started to pound as the software compared the two. The results popped up on the screen almost immediately—ninety-nine percent match.
Kevin froze, his pulse quickening. Had the same person written both notes?
His fingers hovered over the keyboard as a chill crept down his spine. What did this mean? Could the person threatening him about the thumb drive beinvolved with Bridget’s past somehow? Or did they have some connection to Jo’s cottage and the skeleton in the well?
He pushed back from the desk, his mind spinning. Bridget needed to know about this. She’d been worried the note was meant for her, and now, Kevin thought she might be right. The fact that the same person had written both notes changed everything.
Kevin stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket and calling out toward Reese, who was busy in the other room. “I’m going to pop out for a bit.”
Reese popped her head around the corner, raising an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Kevin said, though his voice was tight. “Just... something I need to check on.”
Without waiting for her to respond, Kevin bolted for the door. The cold air slapped him in the face as he stepped outside, the brisk winter wind biting at his skin. He glanced at his watch—Bridget should still be at the bakery. If he hurried, he could catch her before the lunchtime rush.
Kevin parkedhis car a block away from the bakery, the warm smell of freshly baked bread andpastries wafting through the air as he approached. The small bell above the door jingled as he stepped inside, and Kevin’s eyes immediately scanned the counter for Bridget.
She was there, tying up a box of muffins for a customer. She looked... tired. The weight of the past few days had taken its toll on her. She glanced up as Kevin stepped in, and her face lit up slightly when she saw him.
“You’re just the person I wanted to see,” she said with a small smile, wiping her hands on her apron.
He hadn’t expected her to say that, and it made his heart jump in a way that was unfamiliar—but not unpleasant. He smiled back, hoping his voice sounded steady when he replied. “Glad to hear that.”
“Give me a second,” Bridget added, gesturing for him to wait.
Kevin nodded, his heart still racing, and he shifted nervously by the door. His mind whirled with the urgency of the news he had to tell her, but it also warmed him that Bridget seemed genuinely happy to see him.
A few minutes later, Bridget untied her apron and waved over to her coworker before slipping out from behind the counter and walking toward him. “I’m on break. Come outside with me?”
They stepped out into the cold, the quiet street offering them privacy. Bridget hugged her arms around herself, blowing into her hands to warm them as they walked around the corner to where Kevin’s car was parked.
Kevin glanced at her, his mind still on the notes but curiosity piquing as he remembered her greeting. “So, what did you want to see me about?”