The letter had gone into the shoebox that night.After that, the box had followed him from one house to another, always on a shelf, always out of sight, never far enough away.
Connor refolded the paper and placed it back with the photographs.
Back in the bedroom, the bed waited in a room that had grown emptier with each passing year.No second lamp.No hair tie on the dresser.No voice from the bathroom asking where he had put something both of them knew he had moved.
Work had filled the gaps because work knew what it wanted.Calls came in.Forms needed signing.People needed calming down, arresting, warning, helping.
Connor put the shoebox back on the shelf and took the fan.
The fan rattled when he plugged it in, then pushed cooler air across the bed.Not much, but enough.He pointed it toward the mattress and climbed back under the sheet.
His eyes closed.
The phone rang.
Nothing good came from a call at that hour.
Sweat glistened on his hand as he reached for the phone on the nightstand, his heart racing.
Connor answered.
Arnold's voice was unlike anything Connor had heard before.
"Chief..."
Maple Street...
Early light had barely reached the rooftops when Connor pulled up outside a small house on Maple Street.It was a place he had visited many times.This time, the sight of it made him sick with grief.A pain he had not felt for a long time.It was in him now like a jagged blade, cutting through his mind.The old anger.The old rage was seeping through the slits.
The neighborhood looked too quiet for what waited inside.Neat yards.Mailboxes.A child’s bicycle lying near a porch.At the curb, Arnold Shaw stood beside his cruiser, face pale under the brim of his hat.
Connor parked fast and got out.He tried to compose himself.
“Is it true?”
Arnold swallowed.“I… I’m sorry, Sheriff.Victor’s dead.”
For a second, Connor looked at the house instead of the deputy.
Victor Schmidt had lived in Harlan County for ten years and somehow made everyone feel as if he had been there longer.Three kids.Big laugh.Golf on Sundays when Connor could spare the time.A true friend through the years.Perhaps the closest person to him outside of his sister.
And now he was dead.
Connor removed his hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.Sweat returned almost immediately.His mouth was dry.
“Who’s inside?”
“Agent Raven.Matt Price.One of the other deputies, Chuck Danner, got here before me.”
“Chuck?”
“He heard the call and came in...Chief maybe we can handle this...
“No.”
“I told Selena how close you were, she’d understand.There’s no shame in…”
“Arnold, you mean well.But out of my way.”