Page 17 of Jon's Helter Skelter Cold Case

“Man’s a machine. Thankfully, he’s saved a lot of lives with his ability. Missing Persons adore and worship him. Now, fun fact. He’s actually dating and anchored with my cousin.”

For some reason, Abby looked even more envious. “He got a Havili?”

Uh…I didn’t know how to take her reaction.

Jon laughed like he understood exactly what she meant. “He did, lucky SOB. He’ll become family sooner or later, if their lines are anything to go by.”

I leaned around Abby to study his face. What had he picked up on that I hadn’t? Far as I knew, those two weren’t engaged. They’d barely been dating two weeks.

Seeing my expression, he winked at me, looking smug. Bastard. He did know something and wasn’t sharing. Jon kept maintaining he wasn’t a tattletale, but he could at least tellme.

I tuned back in to Borrowman’s conversation across the room. I could only hear his side, but it sounded positive.

“Yeah? That would be awesome, man. Yup, at Psy. Okay, see you soon.”

“He’s in Nashville?” Grant had to be if he could get here soon.

“We’re in luck. He was standing witness at a trial.” Borrowman put his phone back in its protective EMP case. “He’s wrapping up over there now, said he could swing by. I think I may have accidentally made this a competition by telling him Carol got stonewalled.”

Sounded like Grant. The man did take pride in his work.

For some reason, Borrowman took his phone back out of the case. I wasn’t sure I trusted his expression, either.

“What?” I prompted him.

“I’m calling a judge.”

Carol and Jon whipped around to look at him, both protesting in near unison.

“Surely not—”

“That won’t fly—”

Borrowman did not look at all concerned. “I don’t think you understand just how much weight your word and Grant’s combined has. Any law enforcement officer knows to trust you. If I have three of you saying this woman isn’t dead, and the man sitting in prison is innocent, I bet I can get this case officially reopened.”

You know, he was probably right. Jon’s word alone was enough to convince most judges. His reputation was quite hefty. But if you added in Carol’s—who was infamous for finding evidence and bodies no one else could—andGrant’s? I knew very few judges who wouldn’t take their word for it.

Borrowman looked all cocky while tacking on, “Plus this was Solomon’s case.”

“Man makes a good point.” We all knew to question Solomon’s work. He was a shit detective. Borrowman was right to make the call.

Maybe this would be the case that publicized how bad Solomon was and got him kicked off the force for good. A man could dream, couldn’t he?

Jon sat back, one leg crossed over the other, with a screwy tilt to his mouth. He was wearing one of his favorite outfits—dark wash jeans, baby pink button-down shirt, and white vest. Reminded me of the day we met. He did look very good in it. “Now, the question is, will this impact going to Brandon’s paintball game or not? I give it even odds.”

“Aw shit, I didn’t think of that.” Brandon’s birthday party loomed ever closer, and I still hadn’t gotten the man a present. “Don’t jinx it, babe.”

“Trust me, I have no intention of doing so. Let’s just make sure it doesn’t.”

Truly. Although how we’d prevent it if disaster struck was anyone’s guess.

Carol clapped her hands together. “All right. Since we’re waiting on Grant, and sitting here does nothing, let’s go be productive. Abby, man the whiteboard.”

Abby looked game but also confused. “Okay.”

Jon led her out, heading for the conference-slash-war room. He spoke over his shoulder as he walked. “As we go through all of the files, we’ll be throwing out things we find. Timeline, for instance, and key players. We’ll also be putting up people’s pictures so we can see what everyone looks like. Your handwriting is better than ours—”

He was not kidding, but it was also a really low bar. Sharon ended up writing on the board most of the time because everyone else wrote in hieroglyphics.

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