Whitlock laughed, nudging me with his elbow. “You should know … we made a bet about how long it would take before you got involved in our case.”
“Who won?” I asked.
“Neither of us. Foley said one week, and I said two. We didn’t think you had it in you to restrain yourself for an entire month. No offense.”
“I was trying to let you two do your jobs.”
Foley cocked his head, raising a brow. “Since when? You’ve been in here every week since the girl’s murder. Maybe you weren’t running your own investigation, but you sure as hell angled for details.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Suppose not. Word is your sidekicks are out of town. You planning to work the case without Hunter and Simone?”
I grinned and said, “They’re not my only sidekicks, though, are they?”
Foley wagged a finger at me. “Oh, no. If you think we’re your backup, you’re mistaken. If anything, it’s the other way around.”
“I never asked you to help me. I’m here to help you.”
“Help us how?”
“I haven’t worked that part out yet. Why don’t we start by you telling me what you know. And I’ll … well, I’ll listen.”
Foley snorted. “Listening isn’t helping.”
Maybe not, but it was a start.
“If you’re done giving me grief, I’d like to know where you are on the case,” I said.
“And if I’m not done?”
I shrugged. “Then I’ll wait. I have time.”
Foley glanced at Whitlock, and the two of them burst out laughing.
“All right, let’s get to the case,” Foley said. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“Everything, huh? We want to know everything too, starting with what Rosemary Ashford told you.”
“We talked about Audrey’s friends and the guys who were interested in her, and then she walked me through the day Audrey died. She told me it was Dustin, Audrey’s father, who found her.”
“Yeah, that was rough,” Whitlock said. “Poor guy.”
“I feel for him,” Foley added. “When he found her, he tried to pick her up, like he meant to carry her home. But his legs gave out, and he collapsed. The problem is, he moved her from the spot where she died. Disturbed the ground all around her. I don’t blame him, but it sure would have been better if she hadn’t been moved.”
“Did you find anything at the scene, anything useful?” I asked, leaning forward in my chair.
“Not a thing. Her throat was slit, and if the killer left a knife behind, we’d have found it. We didn’t.”
Whitlock shifted in his seat, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “Crazy thing is, she almost made it to her friend’s house. Couple more minutes, and she would’ve been there.”
“I’m not familiar with that part of the woods,” I said. “Anything I should know?”
“I’d say it’s a wooded area that’s not used all that often. About a five-minute walk from where we found Audrey, we came across a cabin. Well, the remains of what used to be a cabin. Old place. Needs to be torn down.”
“How old are we talking?”
