Page 41 of Lana

“No, I’ll speak to him tomorrow. I want this information first. He’d told my father she’d run off with a younger man and he’d never heard from her again. But I doubt that’s the truth given she’s now deceased. We need to know if she took any money out or made any calls. It was my birthday dinner two years ago when he told my father, so work from that date.”

“Got it,” Jackson said, but his words were a far cry from the bewilderment in his voice.

“And, Jackson, keep this between you and me until we know what’s going on. I don’t want any more rumors around town than there already are.”

“Of course, I’ll pull the information myself and email it to you,” he said, sounding calmer now.

“Thanks,” Mitch said, tipping his head back and sighing.

He wondered if any DNA samples from the shed would match Ellen’s.

Had she been leaving Graham for another man, and he’d hurt her in a rage?

But then what about the other bodies?

Maybe she’d discovered something about him—something he’d hidden from everyone around him—and he’d killed her to protect his secret.

An idea occurred to Mitch.

He turned on his heel and went back to the dining table. Zoe looked up at him the moment he entered the room. She didn’t ask about the conversation, but he could see the curiosity in her eyes. The questions were on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t ask. He appreciated that.

“So I had an idea,” he said, taking a seat. “You said you were going to do a profile for this case, but I want you to do a full profile. I’ll give you all the case details. Given one of the victims is your sister, I’m concerned about bias; however, it’s important we have this. It might help us find the killer before he strikes again. I can get someone else to do it if you have any reservations about it, but that could take time, whereas you could do it tomorrow—” He immediately realized what he’d said and paused.

She raised an eyebrow but wore a smirk. “Could I now? Do you think I have nothing better to do, Sheriff?”

He grinned guiltily. “Forgive me for thinking you would be available.”

She laughed softly, and he realized he’d never heard her laugh. It was beautiful and lighthearted and carried none of the pain he often heard in her voice.

“I can do that. I’d love to help in any way I can, and if it helps you to understand this case sooner, that’s great. I will make myself available, at any time, for anything you should need.”

The corner of his lips turned up and he was momentarily distracted by the look in her eyes. Zoe Seacombe was finally coming out of her shell.

“Good to know,” he said with a low voice that surprised him. He didn’t think she missed it, because she slowly bit down on her lip.

Again, he wondered if he should go there. Could she love him as much as she’d loved her late husband?

Mitch believed in marriage. He believed in partnership, in mutual respect and equality between husband and wife. Maybe it was his faith or simply that he’d been raised by a man who lived with the utmost integrity—where morals and taking care of your family were the most important things in life. Mitch carried those values in his heart, and he planned to live and die by them. He wanted not just a wife, but a partner in life.

He’d found that person once, then she’d been taken from him. He had more in common with Zoe than she realized. It’d taken him a few years, but he’d finally begun to believe he would find another partner.

There weren’t a lot of dating options in Redwater, but Mitch had always had faith that the right person would come along at the right time.

As he sat across from Zoe, he wondered if this was that moment: the right person, the right time. He could confidently say this was the most he’d been interested in anyone in a long while. The problem was, he wasn’t sure if she was ready—but he also knew it wasn’t his decision to make.

“What time do you want me to report in for work tomorrow, Sheriff?” she asked, clearly thinking none of the things he’d just been thinking.

He grinned. “Around nine would be great. I have a few things I have to look at, then I’ll be available to... assist you,” he said, not even sure ifassistwas the right word.

“Nine is perfect,” she said, bringing her wine glass to her lips, her eyes locked on his.

He inhaled deeply. Yes, he could definitely get used to evenings like this.

Mitch forced himself to pick up his last piece of pizza and stop staring at her.

“Do you like true crime shows?” Zoe asked.

“I love them. There’s one with an older detective who solved a ton of cold cases. Kendra... I think his surname is. Maybe Kenda. He had a ninety-two percent closure rate, which is very impressive. I love his show; his dry wit is highly amusing. It’s weird to think you can laugh out loud during a homicide show,” Mitch mused. It sounded even weirder saying it aloud.

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