I smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Actually,” he added, “if you want to send over what you have so far, I can set up a private file system. Timeline, known associates, bank locations, anything that might connect.”
I hesitated only a second before nodding. “All right. I’ll forward what I’ve got.”
“Perfect,” he said brightly. “Organization brings clarity.”
After we signed off, I gathered the notes I’d jotted down—what Todd Smith had said, what he hadn’t, the pattern of the banks hit, Stone’s comments about leverage—and sent everything to Sherman.
It felt oddly comforting to hand the pieces over to someone who thrived on arranging them neatly.
When the email whooshed away, I sat back in my chair.
Amy used to do that for me, organize all the info on a mystery we were trying to solve. She’d also listen and ask the right questions. She knew when to challenge me and when to let me think out loud.
I stared at the screen a moment longer than I meant to.
Between investigations and photo shoots and town gossip, I hadn’t realized how much I missed that steady back-and-forth.
It weighed heavier than I expected, which had me grabbing my cell and hitting Amy’s number before I could talk myself out of it.
She answered quickly.
“Pep—”
“I’ve had enough of the cloak-and-dagger stuff,” I cut in gently but firmly. “I want to know what’s going on. Besides, I miss us. Our friendship.”
There was a pause on the other end, then a soft sigh.
“I miss you too,” she said. “You have no idea.”
“Then talk to me.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “Not right now.”
“Amy—”
“Just a week,” she pleaded. “Maybe less. I just need time to figure it all out. Please, Pep. Trust me on this.”
I closed my eyes.
I didn’t like it. Not one bit.
But I knew her voice. This wasn’t evasion. It was something else. Something tangled.
“All right,” I said finally. “I’ll give you the time.”
“Thank you.”
“But be careful,” I added. “And remember how much Beau loves you. It’s your choice, and I’ll stand by you no matter what you decide. Just… don’t hurt yourself in the process.”
“I know,” she said softly. “And I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” I told her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
We hung up a moment later.
I set my phone down and stared out the attic window at the trees swaying gently in the gentle early afternoon breeze.
