Page 28 of Blood Moon

“Initially, I took special interest because it happened here, my old stomping grounds. My familiarity with the area made me useful to the production crew while they were down here. I got twenty calls a day, asking for background info on this or that. And then Max and I oversaw the post-production process, as we did for every episode.”

“What does post-production entail?”

“A lot of work,” she said with a light laugh. “As a piece was being constructed, he and I would watch the edited segments and give the producer our notes.”

“Like what?”

“Well, like ‘This interview runs too long. Trim it, but don’t cut the last sentence because it’s a cliffhanger. Go from it straight into a commercial break.’ Things like that. We’d nitpick and suggest edits that could make a big difference, give the story more oomph.”

“No wonder the show is so highly rated.”

“Thanks.” She shot him a smile, but it didn’t last long. “Shortly after Max and I had watched what was to become the broadcast version of the Mellin episode, he had a heart attack that kept him out for six weeks.

“When he returned, it was obvious to everyone that it had taken a toll. He was still a dragon, but he had little fire left in him. It wasn’t long before he was asked to resign. Brady took over. It was he who gave the Mellin episode final approval and put it into the schedule.”

“But that episode didn’t get your approval. If it had, you wouldn’t be down here secretly meeting me in a beer joint.”

“The episode is good, but no, it didn’t win my wholehearted approval.”

“Why not?”

“I felt there was more to that story than we had. We’d skimmed the surface well enough but hadn’t gotten to the bottom of it.” She sat forward, clasped her hands on her knees, and looked directly at him. “I believe you think the same about the investigation. Don’t you?”

The question sank into him like the claws of a lion, holding him inescapably captive like newly caught prey.

He looked away from Beth’s inquiring eyes and noticed how dim the room had become. Today was the start of daylight saving time. Even so, when the sun slipped behind the trees that surrounded his bungalow and formed a thick canopy above its low roof, darkness fell earlier than it did most places.

The encroaching dusk contributed to his feeling of entrapment.

He was about to reach for the lamp on the end table and switch it on. But lamplight would make Beth’s incisiveness all the more evident, all the more compelling, so he left the lamp alone.

“Don’t you?” she repeated.

She wouldn’t spare him from answering, so he gave her the straightforward answer he felt she deserved. “To me, a homicide investigation remains open until the body is found.”

“Crissy’s isn’t shut. It’s classified as a cold case.”

He scoffed. “If her remains are ever discovered, it won’t be by anyone inside the Auclair PD. It’s understood that the lid is on that case and that it’s to be left as is. Dormant.”

“For all the criticizing attributed to you, you’ve never come right out and said that.”

“Only in private.”

“Have I won your trust, then?”

“Working on it. Keep talking.”

She gave a small smile. “Thanks.” After a beat, she said, “Without Max’s knowledge, I continued to probe that story like a sore tooth, looking for the elusive element I felt was missing. I surfed the internet, searching for any articles or YouTube segments that I might have missed. On one of those explorations, I came across an article referring to another missing persons case in Galveston, Texas.”

John held up his hand. “I know all about it. Since it took place only a few months ahead of our case, we looked into it to see if there was a connection. Larissa Whitmore, a sixteen-year-old from Houston, was playing hooky with a group of girlfriends in Galveston.

“They went out clubbing. Larissa got stoned on marijuana and tequila shots and started making out with twenty-two-year-old Patrick Dobbs, whom she’d met on the beach earlier that day. He and Larissa left the nightclub together and went off in his cabin cruiser.”

“That was the last time she was seen.”

“Right. The following morning, the Coast Guard discovered Dobbs’s boat adrift. It had run out of gas. Dobbs was found in the cabin, naked and sleeping like a baby. There was no sign of the girl except for her discarded clothing and her purse, with nothing noticeably missing from it.

“Dobbs swore he’d passed out and didn’t remember what had happened after they’d had sex. Lots of sex, lots ofpot and tequila. He theorized that she woke up, went up on deck, and, still wasted, fell overboard.”

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