“That’s good to know, Mayor Caldwell,” Nick responded in kind right as a news van pulled up behind Hadley’s SUV. He noticed the way she discreetly moved to the front of her vehicle. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to inform the media that we’re not releasing a statement until morning…whenI’llbe the one giving a press conference.”
20
Hadley Dawkins
October 2025
Thursday – 6:09pm
Rain drummed against the newspaper Hadley held above her head as she pushed through the door of Gus' Watering Hole. The ink had already begun to bleed by the time she lowered her arm. It wasn’t like she needed to read the article when the headline summed up the contents to perfection.
“State Police Detective Returns Home,” with smaller text beneath it that read, “twelve years after sending her own brother to prison.”
Hadley was fairly sure this morning’s headline was the reason Sheriff Turner’s cruiser was parked in front of the municipal building on Main Street. She’d overheard a group of older women discussing the argument between the sheriff and the mayor that took place in the foyer. While she didn’t need the sheriff to fight her battles, she appreciated the gesture.
Hadley kept her blazer fastened to conceal her firearm. She scanned the faces of those inside the establishment, not bothered by the collective stare. The past week had been hell, and there was nothing the locals could say or do this evening to make it worse.
Reed's death had changed everything.
She was no longer the reluctant detective who had been tasked with giving a year-old investigation a second glance. She’d become a more permanent and determined fixture in town, much to the dismay of the locals.
As per usual this week, she wasn’t surprised when the surrounding conversations died mid-sentence. Even Sam seemed to freeze at the tap, the mug in his hand only half-full. The jukebox continued its tinny rendition of some forgotten country song, the only sound willing to acknowledge her presence.
She met several gazes directly, refusing to blink first.
Some patrons shifted their gazes away immediately. Others glared at her with open hostility before returning to their drinks. Interestingly enough, Mayor Caldwell was sitting in a booth near the back in what appeared to be a very serious conversation with the former police chief.
Hadley averted her focus back to Sam, the man she’d been trying to reach all day. He motioned to an empty stool in the middle of the bar, but she wouldn’t dream of sitting down with her back to the crowd.
Instead, she weaved through a few tables before approaching the other end of the bar. The corner stool where Gus Jenkins usually sat was empty, not that she would be there for long. She claimed it without hesitation.
“Where’s Gus tonight?”
Sam placed the mug in his hand on the counter without asking if she wanted a drink.
“He turned in early,” Sam said quietly as he reached for the hand towel draped over his shoulder. “He’s been having a tough time with this one, Hadley. I swear, that old man has lived through more funerals than anyone else in this town.”
“How are you holding up?” Hadley asked gently, knowing that he and Reed had been good friends.
“I’ll be better if you tell me that you arrested the son of a bitch who killed him.” Sam’s eyes, bloodshot and puffy, suggested a hangover rather than grief. She’d already noticed the slight tremor in his hands as he wiped down the counter. “Hell, I don’t think anyone in this town can sleep at night knowing the bastard who did this is still out there somewhere.”
Sam’s words had drawn attention from those sitting at the bar. They were staring at her, waiting for some type of response. They would have liked nothing better had she found evidence suggesting some drifter had been responsible for their police chief’s death, eliminating the chance that one of their own could do something so horrific.
To buy herself time, she used the rungs of the stool for leverage as she leaned over the counter and tossed the soggy newspaper in a trash bin behind the bar.
“Sheriff Turner and I are working around the clock, Sam.” Hadley caught the disgusted expressions on several faces, but she ignored them as she focused on the matter at hand. “Sam, I tried calling you several times today. I need to speak with you in private.”
“Now isn’t a good time, Hadley.”
She’d expected more from Sam, but then again, he had been one of Mason’s best friends. Maybe she’d missed the signs. Maybe he couldn’t stand the sight of her.
“Fine,” Hadley said as she steeled her tone in warning. It was up to him to take it or not. When he turned away, she took thatas her answer. “Why did you call Reed three times the night he was murdered?”
Sam had gone completely still, and she glanced at the mirror behind the bar to read his expression. He was staring down at the towel in his hands, ignoring the fact that half the bar once again went silent. The other half wasn’t sure what had just taken place, so it took a while for the rest of the conversation to die down.
“I received Reed’s cell phone records from his provider today.” Hadley’s words carried over the background music. “You called him three times that evening, Sam. Why?”
Hadley kept to herself that Reed’s cell phone had been turned off a little after six o’clock on Sunday. While she was fine with others knowing about Sam’s attempt to reach Reed, she wasn’t ready to share everything else revealed in the records—such as Reed speaking with Elijah Garber twice after she’d paid the man a visit, or that the last ping of Reed’s phone put him near the entrance to the festival.
