Bill Jurek was a key player, among the first on the scene and was a lead investigator. Ben still had other people to contact, but he needed Jurek and didn’t mind holding.

Ben was pleased at how things were unfolding. He’d completed a rough draft of an outline and felt positive about getting back to work, especially after all that had happened in the last few years.

While he was gearing up to throw himself into his book, he was looking forward to taking Kayla and Emma on that family adventure on the train through the Canadian Rockies, once he had things under control.

Tug padded into his office with his ball in his mouth.

“Not now, pal. I’m working. Maybe later.” Ben scratched the top of Tug’s head just as the Beatles stopped and the line clicked.

“This is Bill Jurek. Sorry for the wait, Mr. Grant.”

“Thanks for responding to my emails. I won’t take much of your time.”

“It’s okay. I’m curious—why are you writing a book about this case?”

“To be honest, there were complications with other cases I was considering, and I’ve had to set those aside. But this case was always a possibility, especially with all the elements it holds, even after all this time.”

“And what would those elements be?”

“The terrible magnitude, the enormous toll, the ages of the murderers. I think the tragedy needs to be studied and told. It warrants a record of understanding for history.”

After five or six seconds passed with Jurek not responding, Ben continued.

“Will you agree to talk to me on the record for the book?”

Jurek took in a long breath, let it out slowly, then answered. “What happened here wounded everyone in town. What those girls did—” He paused to collect his thoughts.

It was Ben’s turn to be silent, sensing that Jurek was still grappling with whatever he carried, that he needed to say whatever it was he needed to say.

“What those girls did cut deep into our community and left a scar. Some of the guys on the investigation, because of the things they saw, had trouble for years with nightmares, PTSD. No different from what I saw when I was a soldier in Africa and Bosnia.”

Ben remained silent, letting Jurek go on.

“I’ve read some of your books, Mr. Grant. I thought they were good. I thought you did a good job.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Yes, I’ll talk to you and I’ll help you as best I can when you come.”

“Thank you, Chief Jurek.”

“Bill.”

“Thank you, Bill, and it’s Ben for me. While I have you, can I ask a few more questions?”

“Go ahead.”

“How often do you think about the case?”

“Every day. Because for one reason or another I have to drive by the house on Old Pioneer Road.”

“And what goes through your mind?”