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I turned it facedown.
Too late.
He had seen enough.
His expression changed.
“Is that what the killer did to them?”
“I can’t discuss the investigation.”
“You brought it into our tavern.”
“Sheriff Tate brought us here.”
“He trusts us.”
“That doesn’t give you clearance.”
Mace studied me for another second.
Then he nodded.
“All right.”
No argument.
No attempt to push past the boundary.
He simply accepted it.
For some reason, that surprised me.
He started toward the door.
“Thank you,” I said.
He stopped.
“For the food.”
“You’re welcome.”
He hadn't asked what I knew.
He hadn't demanded answers.
He looked like he might say something else.
He didn’t.
He opened the door.
Max remained beside my chair.
Mace looked at him.
“Come on.”
