Page 97 of The Dollmaker

The old man’s frown deepened, and his gaze dropped to his bent hands. For a long moment, he said nothing. “What are you saying?”

“That maybe you know a lot more about what happened to Kara Benson, but for whatever reason, you’re hiding the truth.”

Watery gray eyes met his. “Why would I do that? I spent years trying to find her killer.”

“Or you spent years making sure no one else did.” Andrews dangled the words as he would bait on a line. Never knew what you could catch with a statement or comment.

“That’s a shitty thing to say. I worked for years on that case.” He drained what remained in the cup by his chair. His brow knotted as he stared into the cup.

“The crime scene work was substandard.”

“The day we found her, we were spread real thin. There’d been an arson fire in town, and one of my officers was burned trying to put it out. He ended up in the hospital with bad wounds. I wasn’t really equipped to collect forensic evidence, but I was all we had. If any evidence was lost, misfiled, or compromised, you can lay it at my feet.”

Andrews switched tactics. “Forgetting the evidence for a moment, what do you think happened to Kara Benson?”

Knox stared back into the empty mug. “Doesn’t really matter what I think. It’s what I could prove, and I couldn’t pin the case on anyone.”

“What are your theories?” He leaned in a fraction. “Every cop has theories. Whatever you say will remain confidential.”

Knox pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m all out of theories.”

“You must have suspected someone, otherwise why would you give the files to Sharp?”

“He was the last in the family. Seemed fitting.” The old man rose, stepped, stumbled, and then straightened himself. “Best you leave now, son. I’m not feeling so good.”

“What are you hiding, Mr.Knox?”

“Not a damn thing.”

“If Diane Emery was murdered by the same person that killed Kara, you are an accessory if you knew anything that would have solved Kara’s case. You will not only have killed Diane, but you will be responsible for the death of another woman who is now missing. You remember Elena Hayes, don’t you?”

“Elena is missing?”

“She is.”

The pain in Knox’s eyes was raw and brimming with regret. For a moment, it took Andrews aback because he saw the same eyes looking back at him in the mirror each morning when he shaved.

“What are you hiding, Chief Knox?”

“I gave you all my files.”

Andrews understood how past mistakes often turned into festering wounds for anyone with a soul. “I’m an expert at hiding secrets, which makes me an expert at spotting yours.”

Knox’s lips flattened. He trembled as he raised his unshaven chin. “I don’t have more information to share.”

“Talk to me, Chief Knox.”

“I’m not the chief anymore.”

“Once a cop, always a cop.”

“No. I stopped being a cop a long time ago.” He pointed a finger at Andrews. “And the only one who needs to hear my sins is the Almighty himself.” He opened the front door, letting in a cool gust of wind.

Andrews stared at the old man. Then taking a pen from his pocket and a slip of paper from a small notebook, he wrote down his number. “Call me if you change your mind.”

He didn’t accept the slip of paper. “I won’t be calling.”

Andrews laid the paper on a table stacked with bills and advertising flyers near the entryway before he walked to his car. The front door slammed hard. He turned and looked back at the house, certain Knox knew so much more than he was telling.

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