"No. The M.E. identified her through dental records as Brooke Danvers."
"The missing girl from Saranac Lake? From two weeks ago?"
"You caught the news."
"Saw it in passing. Figured she might just show up, what with being over eighteen."
"Well, she showed up wearing Kara's jacket." Callie pushed the file toward him. "I just came from giving the death notification to the family. Brutal."
Noah opened the folder and flipped through. His gaze drifted over autopsy photos. Scene photos. The jacket laid out on an evidence table. The student ID was in a plastic sleeve.
"But that can't be," he said slowly. "They got the guy. He was put away four years ago."
"That's what I hear. Though Kara's body was never found, right?"
Noah nodded. He closed the file and slid it back across the table. "Sounds like you've got your hands full. I'm sure the state will provide an investigator while I'm on leave."
Callie didn't touch it. "Yeah, see, that's the thing. I was hoping you might know what happened to the case file. Luke worked the case along with Ray. Your father was Sheriff at the time. A lot of the older files aren't where they should be."
"I'm sure they're there."
"But you said a while back that your father pulled some when he retired. And Luke had boxes of case files here at the house when he was looking into corruption in the Sheriff's Office. Do you remember that wall of weird he had going?”
"Deputy Hendrix removed them from the house after Luke died. My father also mentioned that files were placed in storage during the station renovations. You might want to check with Hugh."
He took a sip of his tea.
Callie's phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen and her expression shifted. "Huh. Duty calls." She stood and pushed her chair in. "Well, tell Nat I said hello."
Noah walked her to the door. She was halfway down the porch steps when he spoke.
"Callie. Before you take the detective exam. Remember to count the cost."
She turned. "I already have."
"The cost I'm talking about is learned after the fact."
She held his gaze for a second, snorted, and walked to her car.
Noah was rinsingthe mugs when he noticed the folder still sitting on the table. He picked it up, checked his phone, and texted Callie.You left the file.He waited. No response. He set the phone down and stared at the folder for a long moment, then opened it again.
The autopsy photos were hard to look at. Not because of the violence itself but because the girl was young. She was someone you'd see in a coffee shop or a grocery store and not think twice about. Someone with plans. Someone who was supposed to be somewhere else right now.
Ethan appeared in the doorway and saw what Noah was reading.
"You know, I couldn't help overhearing what Callie was talking about," Ethan said.
Noah closed the folder. "You shouldn't be listening to other people's conversations."
"Hard not to when you're having them in the kitchen." Ethan crossed his arms. "Maybe check Grandpa's house. He had boxesin his basement. Told me once he was old-school and refused to burn them when they did the renovations at the station."
Noah looked at his son. "When did he tell you that?"
"Last Thanksgiving. He'd had a few glasses of wine." Ethan shrugged, opened the fridge, grabbed a container of leftover barbecue, and headed back upstairs.
Noah made a mental note. Then he sat down and started going through the folder page by page.
He was so engrossed in the details, he didn't hear the front door open. The first thing he registered was Natalie's voice from the hallway, mid-sentence, something about Mia. Then she was at the kitchen entrance and her eyes went to the table.
