Contents (85)
- Contents
- Part I
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Part II
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Part III
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- One
- Two
- Reading Group Guide
- A Conversation with the Author
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
Will he be okay?
As I drive, and as he stares, and as my headlight beams sweep along the Bury streets as we make our way back to Rum Hill Road, I just want to know the answer to that one question.
Will Max be okay?
And try as I might, I can’t turn off the little voice that laughs at me. Deep in my brain, deep in my heart.
Laughs and says:
Don’t be silly. He’s just like the rest of you.
Thirty-Nine
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
November 9
Colin’s attention wandered again, as it had been doing all morning. The paperwork felt endless, and he still had to finish his phone-tap warrant request for a suspected meth dealer. He was working several other cases along with Riley McKay’s, and though it was becoming more and more likely there wouldn’t be enough evidence to consider McKay a murder victim, Colin couldn’t get Rose Yates out of his mind.
He’d finished her upcoming book over the weekend.
First thing he did yesterday morning when he got to work was put a call into Chief Sike in Bury. Sike called back this morning, but Colin had missed it. Knowing he had to make a dent in the paperwork for his other cases, Colin vowed not to return the call until he at least got the warrant request done.
It ended up being the fastest he’d ever written one. An hour later, he called Sike and was glad not to get the man’s voicemail.
“Chief Sike.”
“Hi, Chief. Colin Pearson, Milwaukee PD.”
“Hey, Pearson, good to connect.”
“Things busy out there in Bury?”
Sike grumbled. “Yeah, a bit. You know, for a sleepy town anyway.”
“Anything interesting?”
Sike took a couple seconds before answering. “We had a murder yesterday.”
Colin sat up straight in his chair. “A murder?” His mind raced through all the people from Bury he’d met. “Who?”
“Not who. What. A dog.”
“Dog?”
“Poodle. But you know, not the little yippy kind. Big one, like you see in the dog-award shows.”
“A poodle was murdered?”
“Ayuh. Looks like it. Throat slit. Someone took it from its backyard and killed it out on a green belt.”
“God, that’s terrible. Who would do that?”
“Well, that’s what I spent my day yesterday trying to figure out. Still no clue. Owner is out of her mind.”
“I can imagine,” Colin said. “Sounds like a warning.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Sike replied. “Dog wasn’t known to be a noisy one, and if a neighbor had an issue, there would’ve been a history of complaints, but nope. And using a knife on a dog? That’s pretty brutal. My guess is it has nothing to do with the dog.” He cleared his throat with enough force that Colin recoiled from his handset. “So that’s what’s going on here. Now, what can I do for you?”
Colin leaned back in his chair and looked around the department. He didn’t know why he felt guilty for talking to Sike about something not related to the McKay case. Maybe because Colin knew he was grasping at straws and his sergeant would certainly admonish him for wasting his time.