When was the last time he spoke to Reed?
Did he call 911 first or someone else?
Those were just a few of many.
Nick mentioned the fire crew was confident the blaze had been deliberate. Had Reed already been killed beforehand? Had he crashed into something and been unconscious?
Her throat closed at the thought, but she quickly cleared it to focus on the reason behind the arson. It had clearly been meant to destroy evidence. But fires, like secrets, rarely consume everything. There would be remains, fragments, or pieces left behind that would give her a place to start. A remnant of evidence that could provide some type of justice in the face of such a travesty.
The locals couldn’t blame theThreshing Manfor the death of Police Chief Reed Langley. Once she could press home that someone he trusted had taken his life, then maybe…just maybe…she’d finally get some answers.
19
Nick Turner
October 2025
Monday – 1:53am
Nick Turner stood at the edge of the roadside. The acrid stench of melted rubber and scorched metal coated the back of his throat. The taste would linger for days. One of his deputies finished stringing the yellow crime scene tape around a perimeter that seemed both too small and impossibly vast for what remained of Reed Langley's truck.
The headlights of various emergency vehicles would soon be replaced by floodlights from the forensics team. There was usually conversation among the fire crew as they methodically packed up their gear or the deputies as they canvassed the immediate area.
Not tonight, though.
One of their own had died, and they didn’t need to wait for confirmation.
The fire chief had pulled Nick aside earlier.“Accelerant. No question, Turner. This was deliberate.”While Nick and Reedhadn’t always seen eye to eye, he was a good man. He had always done what he thought best for the residents of Whistlerun.
What did he get in return?
Betrayal.
Nick’s gaze drifted to the other side of the road, where Hadley stood with her phone pressed to her ear. Something in her posture, the way she angled her body away from the scene, suggested she wasn’t being completely truthful with him. He didn’t like being kept in the dark.
The sound of a distant engine made Nick grimace, because the vehicle didn’t belong to the medical examiner. The low, expensive purr was unmistakable. Mayor Warren Caldwell's red Cadillac approached with the entitled confidence of someone who believed every road led to his doorstep.
“Just what I need,” Nick muttered under his breath, adjusting his stance to brace for the coming interaction.
Warren emerged from his vehicle with the same flourish he brought to ribbon-cutting ceremonies and council meetings. His tailored suit remained unwrinkled despite the late hour, and it wouldn’t be long before he complained about his polished shoes being covered with mud. The ground had softened due to the water used to extinguish the fire.
Warren took careful steps forward, only once glancing in Hadley’s direction. She’d ended her call, but she didn’t appear as if she were going to join Nick for this upcoming, no doubt unpleasant, conversation.
“Is it true?” Caldwell called out as he approached, pulling a pristine white handkerchief from his breast pocket and pressing it against his nose. The gesture struck Nick as theatrical, though the stench was undeniably brutal. “Is that Langley's truck?”
“Yes, sir,” Nick replied, keeping his voice level despite his irritation. “The fire looks deliberate. The medical examiner anda state forensics team should be here soon, so I’ll have more information for you tomorrow at the earliest.”
“Are you saying Langley was killed? Murdered?”
“The fire chief has already confirmed an accelerant was used, but like I said, we'll know more when the medical examiner gets here and the forensics team can process what's left.”
As if summoned by Nick's words, another set of headlights gradually appeared around the bend, followed by the larger outline of the county forensics van. The lights illuminated the treeline briefly before settling on the scene, adding to the chaotic interplay of shadows and artificial brightness.
“Jesus,” Caldwell muttered, the word muffled by the handkerchief. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
Nick waited, hoping against experience that the mayor's next words would express concern for Reed, for his fiancée, and for the community that had just lost its police chief. Instead, Caldwell delivered exactly what Nick expected.
“The festival is less than two weeks away,” Caldwell continued, his gaze darting between the burnt wreckage and the approaching medical examiner's vehicle. “Tourism is half our annual revenue. We were already expecting a low turnout due to the Claymont case not being solved, and now I’m going to have to explain how?—”
