“Different how?”
“She believed someone knew she was digging into the case, but she didn’t know who. She said she wasn’t safe, and she was afraid I wasn’t either. I told her she either needed to go to the police or to drop it and leave it alone for a while. She thought it was time to involve the police, but then she was murdered.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“I didn’t know where the locket was, and I wanted to find it first,” he said. “I thought it might be in her room, so I went to her parents one day and asked if I could spend some time there. They agreed. I never found it.”
“I did.”
Logan glared at me, shocked. “You did? Where?”
“Stuck between the bottom of a planter and its saucer. I took it to the police, and we found a strand of hair caught inside. They’re testing it now.”
“Maybe her death … maybe it won’t all be for nothing,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.
“It won’t be,” I said. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“I know I told you I left town because I thought someone might come after me, and I did. It’s just … I don’t think someone is after me, I know they are.”
I leaned forward. “Go on.”
“A few weeks after Audrey died, I found a note on my truck. I’ll show you. Be right back.”
He left the room, returning a minute later, reaching into his dirty, half-zipped backpack, and pulling out a crumpled slip of paper. He smoothed it over the best he could and then handed it to me.
LEAVE THE PAST BURIED OR YOU’LL END UP JUST LIKE HER
I swore under my breath.
“And you didn’t go to the police?” I asked.
Logan shook his head. “I didn’t trust anyone. Not after what happened. If someone killed Audrey to hide a secret, then that someone could be anyone in this town. Anyone with power. Anyone with a badge. Anyone.”
Giovanni entered the room, taking a seat next to me. “You’re safe here with us, and you’re welcome to stay here for as long as it takes to solve this case.”
“He’s right,” I added. “But now that you’re with us, I want you to be straight with us about everything from here on out. No more half-truths.”
He went quiet for a time, and then said, “The place I’ve been camping, I took Audrey there a couple of times. The last time I spoke to her, she referred to it as our safe place, a place where secrets go to hide.”
Before I could respond, a sharp knock rattled the front door—loud, urgent, and unexpected.
Logan froze.
Giovanni stood, his jaw tight, eyes narrowing—not alarmed, just alert.
Old habits.
Old instincts.
Then he made his way down the hall to greet our unexpected visitor.
24
A low voice drifted from the foyer, followed by Giovanni’s warmer one. A second later, Marco, our security guard, stepped into view behind Giovanni, carrying a tin wrapped in red cellophane.
He gave me a polite nod. “Evening. One of your neighbors dropped this off,” he said, holding up the tin. “Holiday cookies. Figured I’d hand them over instead of leaving them on your front porch.”
“Thank you, Marco,” I said.
