Page 38 of Elsie's Strong Shelter

“No, thank you,” Elsie said, finally taking a sip of her now lukewarm tea. The bitter taste coated her mouth, and she struggled not to cringe.

Owen waited for the server to walk away before letting out a big sigh.

“Did you find who killed Malcom?” Elsie asked, unable to wait another second.

“Not yet. We’ve searched the property and are following all leads. I need you to tell me what all you touched inside that house. We dusted for fingerprints, and it’d be beneficial to know where to expect to find any of your prints.”

Dean scoffed. “Do you really think we’re dumb enough to contaminate a crime scene?”

Owen pinned him with narrowed eyes. “I think you entered a house without cause and didn’t know you were walking into a crime scene.”

“Fair point.” Dean stabbed the remaining bits of egg with his fork before shoveling them into his mouth.

“Besides the front door handle, I didn’t touch anything,” Calvin said. “Dean?”

Dean shrugged. “Opened the closest doors in the bathroom and bedroom. Doors to the rooms themselves. That’s it.”

“What about you Elsie?” Owen’s voice was gentler when addressing her.

“Nothing, at least I don’t think so. I stayed close to Dean. And when we found the body, I froze. I don’t remember after that if I touched anything or not.”

The server appeared and set Owen’s cup in front of him before hurrying to another table.

“Calvin mentioned you identified the scrubs he found in the trash as Mila’s. Is that true?” Owen asked.

She nodded, her stomach tying itself into knots. Her optimism regarding Mila’s fate faded with each passing second, but knowing she’d been in that house—that pieces of her clothing were dirty and discarded—was almost enough to put the final nail in her coffin. “I saw her the night she went missing. I am one hundred percent positive those were hers.”

All three men frowned, their worry and fears hovering over the table like a storm cloud.

She had to press on. Had to get as much information from Owen as possible if even the slightest chance of finding Mila remained. “Was there anything else in the house that leads to Mila?”

“No. I’m sorry. I wish I had better news. At this point, the department is all-hands-on-deck with the investigation. I hope that uncovering who killed Malcom will lead us to Mila. Now ifyou’ll excuse me, I have to go. I’ll keep you posted if we gather any more information you should be aware of.” Standing, Owen grabbed his coffee, dipped his chin, and headed toward the door.

Elsie dropped her head to the table. “What was the point of that? He didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. Such a waste of time.”

A gentle touch on her arm lifted her head. Dean was closer than he’d dared to get to her all morning, and it melted something inside of her. She wanted him near her. Wanted him to touch her, calm her, reassure her.

“It may feel like that, but each new development brings us closer to the truth.”

“We need to get closer, and fast. We need to head to Town Tavern.” Conviction hummed in her veins. She was tired of waiting. If she wanted answers, she’d find them herself. “It should be open by now. Malcom was never there in the morning, and the staff might have information we could use. Owen said all hands on deck. That includes us, whether he likes it or not.”

Dean blinkedto adjust to the lack of natural light inside Town Tavern. The place was business as usual. A few patrons already lined the bar, most opting for a quick meal before heading into work. The smell of coffee and bacon mixed with the hint of cigarette smoke that had permeated the walls years before.

Elsie stepped further into the room but kept space between them. He hated that they hadn’t had a chance to clear the air, but he hadn’t had an opportunity to explain his conversation with Gina. Now it was just the two of them, Calvin opting to work another angle from home, but he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

Especially when Malcom’s murder and its connection to Mila was at the forefront of their minds.

“We should talk to Ashley again,” Elsie said. “She was willing to spill information before.”

Dean scanned the restaurant until he spotted Ashley scurrying from the kitchen with her hands full and scowling. “Good plan. She’s here. Let’s sit in her section. Try to make things easy on her.”

He led the way to a table close to where Ashley stood, taking another order. He pulled out a chair for Elsie then took the seat across from her. “Hungry at all? You haven’t eaten anything all morning.”

She shook her head then dropped her gaze to the scarred table. “I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

He opened his mouth to at least clear the air regarding his ex-wife, but Ashley rushed to the table before any words came out.

“Hey guys. What can I get you two?” Bags hung heavy under Ashley’s brown eyes. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Dark spots stained her wrinkled white shirt.

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