Page 114 of Obsession

“Where?”

“That’s for you to find while I finish dressing.”

Jace groaned. “Would you help me, Sam?”

“And no, your uncle can’t help you,” she called from the hallway.

“I’d like to, but you heard your mom. Besides, I have to leave.”

“It’ll be your fault if I get a bad grade.”

The boy was a con, for sure. “No. It’ll be your fault. You can find them.”

A few minutes later, Sam dialed Emma’s number as he backed out of the drive. “Would you like breakfast?” he asked when she answered.

“No, thanks. I’ve already eaten.”

His stomach dipped at her cool tone. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He stopped by McDonald’s and picked up a sausage and egg biscuit and another cup of coffee and ate on the way. Emma was ready when he arrived, and they were soon on the Trace headed to Jackson, with the windshield wipers keeping a steady rhythm as they drove the deserted road. The atmosphere in the SUV was as gloomy as outside. He kept a check in his rearview mirror as the miles rolled off, occasionally catching sight of a pickup.

“My supervisor okayed me to work at Mount Locust tomorrow instead of Melrose,” she said after miles of silence.

He remembered that Mount Locust was only open to the public Thursday through Sunday. “I should be free to take you there.”

“If not, I can hitch a ride with Brooke.” She turned to him.

“What do you hope to learn from this detective we’re going to see?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe find the connection to these murders and Mary Jo. And Ryan.”

“It still doesn’t feel real that Ryan is dead,” she said. “In my mind it’s like he’ll come back to Natchez one day.”

“I feel that way too.”

“What do you think Sheriff Carter meant when he told you Trey didn’t kill Mary Jo?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I plan to ask Trey this afternoon when we get back.”

“We’re not going on to Oxford?”

“Not today. I promised Jace I’d take him to his soccer game.”

She shot him a questioning look.

“It’s important. Besides, I thought I’d see if the Jackson investigator would take part in a conference call with the detective in Lafayette County. If we learn something we need to check out, we can do it tomorrow.”

Once they hit the Jackson city limits, he concentrated on navigating the heavy traffic, barely arriving at the police department on time. He texted Detective Lane they had arrived, and the detective met them inside the front entrance. The lanky, midfifties detective had a couple of inches on Sam’s six-one. His blond hair was parted low and combed over the top of his head, covering his baldness.

After the introductions were made, Lane led them to a small conference room. “Make yourselves at home. Can I get you something to drink?”

As he’d followed the detective, Sam had gotten a look at a pot of coffee that looked like tar. “Water will be fine.” Emma echoed his reply.

“Probably a good idea,” Lane said and chuckled. “I’ve pulled all the files and made copies for you, and I have contact information for the victims’ families in case you want to interview them.”

“You think they’ll talk to us?” Emma asked.

“The Fisher family will—I hear from them on a regular basis wanting to know if any new information has surfaced. They want the killer found and punished.”

---