Two more minutes, and she’d be safe.
Or so she believed until a figure stepped out from behind a tree, a little silent stranger grabbing at her and yanking her backward, their hot breath pressing against the nape of her neck.
She tried to scream, but before she had the chance, a hand clamped over her mouth, pressing something sharp against her neck.
And then everything faded to black.
2
One Month Later
A storm had settled like a curse over the quiet town of Cambria, the sky splitting open with sheets of rain that showed no signs of stopping. The wind howled low around the eaves, and every drop against my office window felt like a warning tap.
Something was coming.
I could feel it.
I was sitting at my desk when the front door blew open and a woman rushed in, umbrella in hand. She flicked the umbrella downward, scattering droplets of water across the wood floor. Then she pressed a button, collapsing it as she fastened the clasp around it.
Brushing off her damp gray trench coat, she scanned the room. When her gaze met mine, she walked over, offering a small smile as she stepped inside my office.
The woman was, in a word, disheveled. Her long, dirty-blond hair looked like it had once been tied in a bun, but the blustery weather had pulled it loose. She sank into the chair across from me, unbuttoned her coat, and slipped it off, revealing a cream-colored cashmere sweater.
She blinked at me and said, “Hello. I’m Rosemary Ashford.”
I knew the name, and I knew her story.
Everyone in town did.
Her daughter, Audrey, had been murdered while walking through the woods to a friend’s house, her throat cut from behind. The path she’d chosen that day was one she’d often traveled, a familiar trail turned fatal. Since then, whispers swept through town, talk of a killer on the loose, lurking in the woods, waiting to strike again.
Given no other attacks had happened since, I didn’t buy it. Audrey’s murder seemed deliberate and targeted, and it would surprise me to learn it wasn’t.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Ashford?” I asked.
“Call me Rosemary, please. I heard you used to be a detective for the San Luis Obispo Police Department, and a few years ago, you left to open your own detective agency.”
“You heard right.”
“I … ahh … I was hoping to talk to you about …”
Before she could finish her sentence, the tears came, fast and hard like a sprinkler set to full blast. I opened one of my desk drawers and reached for a box of tissues, which I set in front of her.
“I’m sorry about what happened to Audrey,” I said. “How’s the police investigation going?”
“I’m not sure how long a murder investigation should take, but this one seems to be dragging,” she admitted. “That’s not to say the police haven’t been thorough. They’ve kept me informed and have been in constant contact ever since my daughter died. Still, they don’t have much in the way of leads yet.”
She was right.
They didn’t have any solid leads, not a single one.
None they’d shared with me, anyway.
“Chief Foley is my brother-in-law,” I said. “He’s married to my sister, Phoebe. And Whitlock, the lead detective, is a close family friend. I’ve spoken with both of them several times over the past few weeks, and I can assure you; they’re putting everything they have into finding your daughter’s killer and bringing them to justice.”
She leaned back in her chair, letting out a frustrated sigh. “That may be true. Still, I’d like to hire you. I’m hoping that, with your help, things will move along faster.”
Ever since the day I heard about Audrey’s murder, I’d kept an eye on the case, touching base with Foley and Whitlock now and then, but since they hadn’t sought out my advice, I’d kept my thoughts to myself. Until now, it hadn’t been my place to interfere. That was all about to change.
