“Hundred years, maybe more. I dug into the records, tried to figure out who built it and who owned it last. Nothing. It’s like the place doesn’t exist on paper.”
“Someone must know something about it.”
“If they do, they’re not talking,” he said, his gaze fixed on me.
I paused, gearing up for my next question. “Do you have any suspects yet?”
“Everyone who knew that girl is a suspect. We just haven’t tied the murder to anyone yet.”
“Do you suspect one person over the rest?”
“We’ll get to that in a minute. First, I want to circle back to the cabin and what we found there. For starters, it seems someone had been inside it in recent months.”
“How do you know?”
“Place should have been crawling with cobwebs. It wasn’t. Didn’t see a single one.”
“You think someone cleaned it up?”
“Seems so.”
Whitlock, who hadn’t been as talkative as usual, raised a hand as if needing permission to speak. “And then there’s the initials we found.”
“What initials?”
“AA. Carved into one of the wooden beams.”
My stomach tightened.
AA
Audrey Ashford.
She could have carved it herself—but why?
Was the old cabin a place she frequented, somewhere she could go to be alone with her thoughts? Or had it served a different purpose, one we weren’t aware of yet?
“Who have you talked to so far?” I asked.
“Family, friends, classmates. You name it, we’ve spoken to them.”
“Before, when I asked if there was someone you suspected over the rest, you didn’t give me a definitive answer.”
Foley and Whitlock exchanged glances, remaining silent.
Whatever detail they were keeping from me, it appeared to be a juicy one.
“All right, you two, what aren’t you telling me?” I asked.
“Our main suspect is Logan Lambert,” Foley said.
“The guy Audrey was dating? Why? Have you spoken to him?”
“We have.”
“And?”
“He was nervous, more nervous than he should have been if he was innocent.”
