“Are you planning a service?” With all that had happened, he hadn’t had the opportunity to ask her.

  She moved her head side to side, sadness shadowing her expression. “He made it very clear ages ago that he didn’t want any sort of service. He just wanted his ashes spread at Sunset Rock. The same way we did Gran’s except without all the fanfare.”

  That was Willy. He felt he’d had more than his share of notoriety with his photographs. He had preferred low-key these past few years.

  Olivia looked to Huck. “I hope you’ll be there with me. Willy would want you there.”

  “Of course.”

  A rap on the door had Huck pushing back his chair. “I’ll see who it is.”

  * * *

  OLIVIA STOOD, sending her own chair sliding back. Had the crime-scene investigators returned to search for more evidence? Maybe they had returned with news. She watched as Huck checked out the window.

  “It’s Ms. Lockhart, Madeline, from the diner.”

  Olivia remembered Ms. Lockhart. She’d always given Olivia the largest slice of pie in the case whenever she stopped in after school. Olivia had been certain the lady thought she and Huck were special since whenever they were at the diner she spent more time with them than any of her other customers. As Olivia had gotten older, she had realized the lady had a crush on Willy. He never seemed to notice, but Olivia had seen it every time they stopped at the diner. Olivia started toward the door and Huck.

  “Morning, Ms. Lockhart,” Huck said as he opened the door.

  “Good morning, Huck.” She beamed a smile. “How’s your momma?”

  “She’s doing great,” Huck said. “She and her sister have decided to start traveling the world. They’re on a cruise right now.”

  “That’s just wonderful.” The lady stepped inside, a nine-by-eleven glass dish covered with aluminum foil in her hand. Her attention shifted to Olivia. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry about Willy.”

  Olivia accepted her one-armed hug. No matter that she’d cried a dozen times already, emotion welled in her eyes and throat. “I’m still struggling with believing it.”

  How did you come to terms with the loss of the one person who had always been there?

  The older woman drew back. “I brought that casserole you always loved.” She offered the covered dish to Olivia. “The one with the chicken and the noodles and cheese.”

  Olivia smiled. It was still her favorite. Whenever she’d been in the field all week with work, she made this casserole when she came home and ate it the entire weekend. “Thank you. I could never make it the way you do, though I’ve tried so many times.”

  Sadness cluttered Madeline’s face. “Do you know when you’ll be spreading his ashes? He told me that’s what he wanted, and I’d really love to be there.”

  All the times this lady had flashed her brightest smile for Willy from behind the counter at the diner flickered one after the other through Olivia’s mind. Had he finally taken notice? It sounded as if they’d grown closer considering he’d shared his final wishes with her. “I would love for you to be there. We’ll try for tomorrow. I’ll let you know the time for sure.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced from Olivia to Huck. “I should go. I’m sure you’re busy.”

  “Ms. Lockhart,” Olivia said, waylaying her departure, “did Willy mention any trouble recently? Maybe someone who had visited him and upset him somehow?”

  Her face paled. “Why, my gracious, no. He...” Her mouth slowly closed as if something besides what she’d intended to say had occurred to her. “He didn’t mention anything, but I do believe something was bothering him.”

  “Would you like to join us for coffee?” Huck asked with a gesture toward the kitchen table.

  “I would, but you know I have to get to the diner.” She laughed. “Keep my staff on their toes.”

  The lady had owned the only diner in Sunset Cove for as long as Olivia could remember. “Something was bothering him?” Olivia prodded. “In what way?”

  Madeline shrugged. “You know, as I so often say, the old gray mare ain’t what she used to be, meaning at the end of the day I’m ready to collapse on the sofa and just relax. Willy...” She blinked, seemed to consider her words. “Some nights, we would relax at my house.” She shrugged, her cheeks going pink. “Dinner and television. Other times, we’d come here.”

  Olivia smiled, her heart lifting at the idea. “I’m so glad to hear he was spending time with you and not here all alone.”

  Madeline visibly relaxed. “We enjoyed our time together.” A frown furrowed her brow. “Last week was like any other until Sunday. On Sunday...he seemed distracted. I had this sense of him being someplace else, so to speak. When I asked, he pretended not to know what I meant.”

  “He didn’t mention anyone or thing?” Huck pressed. “Maybe something that didn’t seem so important at the time.”

  Madeline looked from Huck to Olivia and back. “What’s going on, Huck? Are you suggesting Willy’s fall was no accident?”

  “Do you believe it was?” Olivia asked, her tone more pointed than she’d intended. “If you spent a good deal of time with him, did you notice his balance being off or some issue that might have made him less sure-footed than usual?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I did. I spent all the time with him I could and the answer is no.” Madeline closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “When Decker told me he’d fallen...that way, I didn’t believe him. Then when the medical examiner didn’t find anything, I tried not to think about it anymore.”

  Olivia reached out, put a hand on her arm. “Whatever happened, we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

  “You have my word on that,” Huck promised.

  A tear slipped down Madeline’s cheek, and she swiped it away. “As much as I know in my heart he wouldn’t have gotten that close to the edge if he didn’t feel safe, I hope the other possibility isn’t true. Willy didn’t deserve to die that way.”

  Olivia bit her lip in an attempt to hold back her own tears. “When was...” She cleared her throat and started again. “When was the last time you saw his camera?”

  Madeline made a face. “The camera? The one he always had with him?”

  Olivia nodded. “We can’t find it. Not where he fell and not here.”

  “We were together on Sunday. We went downtown for lunch. He had his camera then.”

  “Where downtown?” Huck asked the question that pounded in Olivia’s brain.

  “We went to Big River Grille on Broad. We both love—loved that place.”

  Olivia and Huck exchanged a look. “Did you go anywhere else downtown after that?”

  She shook her head. “Like I said, he seemed very distracted. Said he didn’t feel well.” She shrugged. “The Cajun fish tacos weren’t sitting right with him, so we went home early. We were back at my place by two and he begged off dinner that evening.” Her gaze grew distant as if she were remembering that day. “I watched from the window as he left—the way I always do. But he didn’t turn toward home.”

  “He went back toward the city,” Huck guessed.

  “Yes.” Her arms went around herself as if she suddenly felt cold. “I told myself he just took a different way home, but I’m sure that wasn’t the case.”

  Olivia passed the casserole to Huck and hugged the woman. “Thank you for telling me this.” Olivia drew back. “It’s really important that we understand how Willy was feeling and anyone he might have spoken to those last few days.”

  Madeline nodded. “You be careful.” She looked to Huck. “If someone did this to Willy, he might still be around.”

  “Show her the picture,” Huck said to Olivia.

  She hadn’t even thought of the pictures. She went back to the table and grabbed her cell. She showed the photos to Madeline. “These were on the dry rack in Willy’s darkroom. Other than what’s in his camera—if anything—I’m assuming these are the last photos he shot.”

  Madeline studied each photograph, then swiped to the next one. She shook her head. “I can’t see him very well, so I can’t say that I recognize him or the place.” Her frown deepened. “Are you certain Willy took these photos? I’ve never seen him do such a poor job of focusing in on his subject.” She handed the phone back to Olivia. “Maybe he was aiming for something else.”

  Olivia thanked Madeline again and Huck walked her to her car. Olivia returned to the kitchen counter where the original photos sat in a stack of other papers that hadn’t really given them anything to go on just yet. She went through the photographs, one at a time, searching for any other detail that might have been what Willy was actually looking at when he took the shot. Something that he’d zeroed in on. All six were different, confirming to some degree that Willy had been following the man as he moved from outside the bar to inside and then when he came back out again, presumably later.

  The man had to be the subject, but Madeline was right, this looked nothing like Willy’s work. At first, Olivia had been so overwhelmed she hadn’t even considered that aspect. Of course, she’d noticed the out-of-focus work, but she hadn’t really considered it. And yet, the idea made complete sense.

  This was not Willy’s work. He hadn’t taken these shots.

  “Did you find something?”

  Olivia looked up. She hadn’t heard Huck come back in. “She’s right. Willy didn’t do this.”

  Huck nodded slowly. “All right then, let’s consider our timeline. Ms. Lockhart says she and Willy had lunch on Sunday. They were back at her place by two, and he left. She thinks he didn’t go home.” Huck’s expression shifted to one of astonishment. “Wait. I saw Willy on Sunday.” He popped his forehead with the heel of his hand. “It didn’t cross my mind until Madeline said lunch on Sunday was the last time she saw him. I ran into him at the market around three-ish, maybe four. I was going in, and he was coming out.”

  “His camera was with him at lunch,” Olivia noted. “She saw the camera. Did you see it later when you ran into him?”

  “No.” Huck shrugged. “But he’d been in the market. He probably left it in the Defender.”

  Olivia nodded. “Probably. Did he buy anything? I only ask because the fridge is basically bare. There was some cheese and a carton of expired milk but not much else.”

  Huck thought about the cheese toast he’d made. He’d used the only two slices of bread left in the house. “He only had one bag.” He searched his memory for the image of Willy at the market that day. “There was one of those loaves of French bread. You know the kind that’s always in baskets in random places so people will grab it as they go by.”

  Olivia nodded. “Like a baguette.”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. Like when you’re making spaghetti dinner. I saw one of those poking out of the bag and...a bottle of wine.”

  “Wait.” She looked taken aback by that last one. “Willy never drank wine.”

  Huck shrugged. “Maybe it was for Madeline Lockhart.”

  Like him, Olivia stared at the door Ms. Lockhart had only just exited. “We’ll have to ask her.”

  Huck nodded. “Back to the timeline. Willy was found around two on Monday afternoon. Sheriff Decker took the call himself.”

  “Those photos were taken at night,” Olivia said, wanting to move past that horrible part in the story. “Since we know Willy had the camera Sunday as late as two, and if he didn’t take those shots, then whoever killed him did. On Monday night, I’m thinking. Came here and developed the film without fear since Willy was gone and I hadn’t arrived yet.”

  “Since his death was considered an accident,” Huck went on, “there was no reason for anyone to come here to check things out. Decker knew to call you. No need to come here looking for contact info on next of kin. But what if the wine was for our unsub? Maybe he came to dinner on Sunday night? We know it wasn’t Ms. Lockhart or any of Willy’s other friends I interviewed.”

  “Oh, my God, you’re right.” Olivia looked around. “At some point after three or four and maybe after dinner on Sunday night, the unsub, as you call him, was here. Did he have dinner with Willy? Did he leave and then come back later and search the house?”

  “Which means,” Huck realized, “the murder happened sometime after four on Sunday. And if our unsub wasn’t Willy’s dinner guest, he came later that night or on Monday night and searched the house. Even dared to come back while you were away yesterday and leave a message.” Huck nodded, pieces falling into place. “You were right when you suggested he has a key.”

  Olivia’s breath caught. “Where is Willy’s key ring? We can confirm the key is missing if we find it. There would have been a key to the house, the shed. Everything.”

  Huck ran his hand through his hair, his mind—like hers—working to figure out the missing details. “Decker said the Defender was in the parking lot at the Point—where Willy always parked—so Decker drove it home the same afternoon—on Monday—when Willy was found.” He gestured to the door. “I’m guessing he left the keys in the vehicle.”

  Olivia was at the door by the time Huck caught up with her. She hurried to the Defender, opened the door. The heavy bundle of keys still hung from the ignition. A quick look confirmed the house, the shed and darkroom keys were missing.

  “He took the keys after he killed Willy,” she murmured. Her knees buckled.

  Huck’s arms went around her and pulled her against him. “We’ll get him, Liv.”

  For a long minute, she allowed him to comfort her. But then she pulled free. “We should go back to that bar and talk to anyone we can find along that block. Maybe someone else saw Willy or the guy he was watching.”

  He had been thinking the same thing. “It’s a long shot, but it’s the best one we’ve got just now.”

  She nodded. “I’ll get my bag.”

  Rick’s Bar and Grill,

  Chattanooga, 10:30 a.m.

  THE BAR WASN’T OPEN, but that didn’t matter since it wasn’t their destination this morning. The street was empty around it, making for good parking. Olivia climbed out of the SUV and walked around the hood to meet Huck.

  “Where should we start?” Both sides of the street were lined with businesses. Several were closed down, the windows boarded up. Others were closed until after five.

  “We’ll start with the nail salon just over there.” He nodded to her right. “Then go around the block.”

  “Should we split up?” She counted seven shops that appeared to be open.

  “No way. We stick together.”

  Somehow she had known that would be his answer.

  When they reached the nail salon, Olivia fell back a step and let Huck do the talking since the two female employees studied him closely from the moment he opened the door. Understandable, Olivia admitted. Huck was a good-looking man. Tall, fit, handsome.

  She banished the thoughts, pretended to check out the nail polish colors while he chatted with the ladies. Neither had seen the blurry guy in the photos or Willy. Since this shop closed around the time the bar’s clientele likely started to filter in, Olivia wasn’t really surprised.

  The next business, a print shop, had the same answer. Not open past five, hadn’t seen either man.

  “To tell you the truth,” the print shop owner admitted, “I don’t come down here after dark. It’s not safe.”

  The thought of Willy coming to a place like this had Olivia’s nerves on edge. Willy had been in plenty of dangerous places in his life, but the danger had always been from the elements or the terrain. Never from another human.

  It didn’t make sense. Not coming here, not the blurry photos. She was certain Willy didn’t do either of those things.

  On the sidewalk, Olivia glanced back down the street at the bar. “Why would this person—this unsub—come here? Why take those shots and develop them?” Olivia wondered out loud. “Then leave them for me to find.”

  I knew you’d come back.

  “If the goal was to leave me a puzzle to solve,” Olivia grumbled, “I’m going to need a few more pieces.”

  “The message left on your bedroom wall,” Huck said as they continued walking, “suggests Willy told whoever our unsub is that you wouldn’t be coming back. He’d hidden your contact info from the bastard.”

  Olivia stalled, her heart bolting into a frantic rhythm. “Do you think he killed Willy because Willy wouldn’t tell him where I was?” The idea had her stomach dropping to her feet.

  The pain on Huck’s face gave her the answer without him having to say a word.

  “Oh, God.” She started walking again. Had to move or risk falling into a heap of emotions that were already shattering into bits inside her.

  “We can’t be sure, Liv.”

  There he went speaking softly to her again. She wanted to scream. To hear him shout. This was wrong, wrong, wrong.

  Breathe.

  By the time they reached the final shop on their side of the street, she had calmed herself to a reasonable degree.

  The shop was a small market that wrapped around the corner of the block. Inside was cold. Olivia shivered after walking the block in the heat. Today was a good deal warmer than yesterday, or maybe it was just the humidity. The woman behind the counter was older, closer to seventy than sixty, Olivia guessed.

  Again, she hung back, allowed Huck to do the talking. Mostly because she didn’t trust her emotions just now.

  Huck provided the usual spiel and showed the photos he’d added to his phone as well. The woman put on her glasses and took her time, peering closely at each pic. When she finished, she shook her head.

  Olivia wandered to the wide plate-glass window and found a spot between the signs spouting one sale or the other to peer out at the street. Was it possible her father had come back after all this time? Had he carried a grudge against Willy for some reason? Maybe he’d been in prison and only recently was released, like Huck suggested. Maybe there was some terrible secret about her father that Willy hadn’t wanted to tell her.