I realized a second too late I was staring, and he was still waiting for his answer. I nodded. There was no point in hiding it. I had a feeling if Beck wanted information, he’d get it, no matter what.

“You wanted to make an exhibit on the Coastal Killer?” he asked, frowning.

“No,” I said hurriedly. “I wanted to make an exhibit on the victims. A memorial, a way to remember who they were.”

I let out a breath of frustration. Why did everyone always fixate on the killer? “No one else seemed to think it was a good idea, so Francis tasked me with a different project and expects I’ve ceased work on this.”

“Sometimes, people aren’t ready to face hard truths,” Beck murmured.

“Hard truths?” I asked.

“Like for one, that your boss is likely never going to take on this exhibit, yet you are still working on the project she tasked you with stopping,” he said.

I scowled.

What was his issue? 

Everything out of his mouth was so calculated and logical. Even if Francis told me to stop, it didn’t mean all hope for my research and memorial was gone. If I could just find more on the killer, or if the FBI finally caught them, the town would be more open to the idea. I knew it.

“And two, some people aren’t ready to face the reality of these people being gone. They were friends, family, colleagues; that isn’t an easy truth to face,” Beck added.

“I guess,” I muttered, turning back and closing out of the files.

“Email me the rest,” Agent Beck stated, walking over to an empty desk and finding a pen and sticky note. He jotted down something and held the paper out to me.

“What is this?” I asked, taking it.

“My email.” He adjusted the strap of the bag he carried.

I read over the generic government email he’d handed me in disbelief. That was it? He just expected me to hand over everything to him and be done?

I’d worked long hours to collect all of this.

“No,” I answered, handing it back.

My arm remained extended, but he didn’t move. His eyes narrowed on me.

If he was going to continue my research, I wasn’t going to just hand it over. I wanted to help, to ensure the Coast Killer finally answered for their crimes. It was my entire motivation, the reason I started the project in the first place. I couldn’t just hand it all over and let it go, the same way I couldn’t let it go when Francis turned down the exhibit.

“No?”

“This is all of my research. I’m not just going to hand it all over. I want to help you.”

“I’m a federal agent,” he noted. “You’re a civilian. This is an investigation, not a project.”