“We are doing everything possible. If anyone has any information on the killing of Beverly Brighton, please give us a call,” the detective was saying, and they flashed back to her press conference. “It’s the eyes and ears on the ground that are responsible for solving most cases like this, and we’re really looking for justice for Beverly and her family.”

Detective Puhl stared into the camera, and I got the sense that she was sending a message. She was saying loud and clear that she—not the police department as an entity, but she herself—would get to the bottom of it.

And I’d be damned if I didn’t believe her.

I leaned forward, engrossed in the report, when the picture suddenly disappeared, and I was staring at a familiar face. It was an actor, and it took me a moment to realize that Keith had changed the channel to an old episode of Modern Family. I turned to him in outrage and saw that he was leaning back on the couch, the remote control in his hand. He laughed out loud at something that was said, then turned and looked at me mid-chuckle. He stopped laughing and frowned when he saw my face.

“What?” he asked. “Oh, were you watching that?”

Beverly was dead.

“Yes!” I said too loudly, and I swallowed. “Sorry. I mean yes, I was. That sounded…horrible.”

“The lady on the Gold Coast?” he asked. “Uh, yeah, it was super depressing. That’s why I changed it.”

I felt a surge of anger at his flippant attitude, but I held it back and spoke through pursed lips. “Do you mind turning back?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said. He raised the remote and flipped in the wrong direction, going up instead of down, and I honestly wanted to throw something at him. “Oops,” he said with another chuckle, thumbing down back to the news.

He landed on the station again, but by then, the news had moved on to a story about a burglary on the train. I blinked a few times, staring at the screen, my palms sweaty.

“Guess it’s done,” Keith said. “Maybe it’s on somewhere else.”

He went back to flipping, and I continued to sit there, my entire body frozen, my mind reeling at what I’d just learned.

It didn’t make any sense.

It had happened late Saturday night, which meant—

I stood up quickly, and Keith looked up at me, his forehead scrunched together.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Be right back.”

Shelby stood up as I walked by her and then settled back down as I walked into the bedroom and shut the door.

No, no, no, no.