Page 1 of Cold Case Discovery

Chapter One

Her phone trilled in the dark.

Chloe Brink rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty, which was good.Best. Considering the screen on her phone readDo Not Answer.

In other words, it wasn’t work or something important. It was her brother calling her. At two in the morning.

She loved her baby brother and wished she could save him, but he was an addict. And until he accepted that, untilhedecided he wanted to change, her relationship with him had to be distant.

She was a sheriff’s deputy. She couldn’t rush in to save him from every problem. It would only get them both in trouble.

So she didn’t answer.

The first time.

After the ringing paused, only to immediately begin ringing again, she sighed and did the inevitable. Maybe one of these days all the steps she’d taken to try to insulate herself from this need to be his—or anyone’s—savior would actually work.

But not tonight.

She closed her eyes, let her head flop back onto the pillow and took a deep breath. “Ry, what is it?”

“I need your help.”

She counted to three, inhaled deeply. Let it out. He didn’tsoundhigh, but that didn’t mean anything. “We’ve been over this.”

“Chloe, you don’t understand. This is serious. It wasn’t me. I don’t know what to do. There’s bones. It wasn’t me. It’s too old. Too deep. Chlo, I don’t know what todo.”

Panicked, clearly. Butbonesdidn’t make sense. She pushed up into a sitting position on the bed, tried to clear her mind. “What do you mean, Ry? I don’t understand.”

“By the barn. I’ve been digging for that new addition, right?”

She didn’t say what she wanted to:At two in the morning?She let him blabber on only half making sense. At least it was just some jumbled talk about bones, not actual trouble with the law.

“You have to come. What am I supposed to do? I didn’t do this. This isn’t mine. It’sbones.”

Chloe went over everything her therapist had told her. It wasn’t her job to clean up Ry’s messes. He had to be responsible for his own choices.

But this wasn’t theexactsame thing. He wasn’t in a fight with someone. He wasn’t asking her to get him out of a ticket or an arrest. He’d just stumbled upon some bones—animal, probably—and convinced himself, perhaps with the aid of an illegal substance, it was a bigger deal than it was.

If she went over there, told him everything was fine, he’d stop bothering her for a few days. “Fine. Listen. I’ll come over. But just to look at these bones, okay? But you have to stay put. And sober.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“I mean it, Ry. Not even a sip of beer. If I can’t trust you to—”

“Okay. I promise. Nothing. Nothing else. If you just come over. Quick. I don’t know what to do.”

“Just don’t move, and don’t touch anything. Ortakeanything,” she muttered, before hitting End and tossing her phone onto the empty side of the bed.

Thiswas what her therapist didn’t understand. Sometimes going over to help was the better course of action. She’d nip it in the bud and then be free of him for a few days. Best all around.

Best or easiest?

She groaned.

“Bad news?”

She didn’t jolt, didn’t open her eyes right away. She’d woken to an empty bed, so she figured he’d gone, because that was how this worked. Usually, that caused an ache around her heart, one she was determined to stop and never did—but tonight, him still being here was the last thing she wanted.

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