Beyond Paul, it doesn’t seem like the cops looked into anyone else; nailing Joe was too juicy. I skim the evidence log from the search of his office at school. One pair of panties, pink, later identified as Caroline Quinn’s. Photos of Caroline and others in various states of undress, apparently taken with a pinhole cam in the girls’ locker room. Gross. I note that the photos aren’t part of the file. I wonder which pervert absconded with them for his own personal collection.

From the evidence, Joe does look good for it. His interview notes describe him as cagey, quick to anger. Sheriff Vann noted, “Suspect clammed up as soon as we showed him the underwear,” with no denial as to where they had come from. Stonewalling. A guilty person would do that.

I take pictures with my phone of the pages I might want to reference later, but for the most part, the file makes the case look cut-and-dried: Caroline was murdered, and Joe did it. Grace may be pissed and taking revenge, but Joe did it.

The door handle jiggles, and whoever’s on the other side grunts with surprise. Shit. Amber said no one comes in here! I scramble to put everything back in the file, shove it back into the drawer.

A key scrapes in the lock. The handle starts to turn. At the last second, I dash behind the door, willing myself to disappear into the shadows.

And then the door opens.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Cecelia?” Amber stage-whispers.

The rapid gallop of my heart slows. Of course it’s Amber. I emerge from my insufficient hiding place.

“Sorry. I thought it might be your dad, or another deputy,” I explain.

“It might have been,” Amber admits with a grimace. “Dad finished his interview and is not in a good mood. Come on, you need to get out of here before he sees you.”

We sneak back to the lobby, Amber checking first that her dad is out of sight. Then she practically shoos me out the front door. But not before I can get in a final request.

“Hey, one more thing. A favor.”

A groan. But she doesn’t stop me.

“Maura’s personal assistant, Suzanne, was in an accident. I’m sure you heard. Could you look into the accident report for me? Let me know if there’s anything hinky?”

Amber looks over her shoulder again. Dad check. Coast clear. “I’ll see what I can do. Now go!”

It’s enough. Finally, I allow myself to be kicked to the curb, where I find Gabriel literally on said curb.

“What are you doing here?” we say at practically the same time.

“They brought you in for questioning?” I ask, piecing it together.