“Ma’am, this is your stop,” he said looking confused.

  “Of course,” she mumbled slowly getting out.

  The neighborhood was dark and quiet. She hurried up the path and disappeared inside the safety of her home, leery of the unknown dangers that lurked in the dark. In a few hours, the sun would rise, and the street would come alive again. She far preferred the morning scurry of everyone getting to work and school, she thought. But inside her home, everything was just as quiet and dark and suddenly as terrifying as things had seemed outside. She switched on every light on the way to her room, wondering if this was what it would be like if Daniel never came home again.

  * * *

  The incessant chiming of the doorbell woke Patty around noon the next day. She had taken a shower and fallen asleep on the bed forgetting to wrap her hair into curlers, her essential nightly ritual to get rid of the frizz in her ash blonde hair. Rushing to answer the door, she caught a glimpse of herself in the foyer mirror. She looked a mess and quickly smoothed her hair back as best she could.

  “Who is it?” she called through the door.

  “Mrs. Richardson, it’s me, Angus,” the voice came back.

  Alarm bells for Daniel rang in her head as she looked back and noticed the time on the clock behind her.

  “Mrs. Richardson, is everything okay? I heard what happened,” Angus said again.

  Patty took a deep breath and opened the door, squinting as the sun pierced her eyes.

  “Sorry, Angus, I didn’t get home until the early hours of the morning. Come on in. I’ll get some coffee started.” She left the door open for him to follow her into the kitchen.

  “How’s Mr. Richardson?”

  “Since I left him last night, probably the same. The nurse promised she’d call me when he wakes up.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you, Mrs. Richardson?”

  She smiled at him as she opened a tin of her homemade granola cookies that had become his favorite.

  “I think it’s time you call me by my first name, don’t you think? I don’t hand these cookies to just anyone you know,” she smiled warmly. “And you look like you haven’t slept or eaten in days. Eat up,” she pushed the tin under his nose.

  He smiled back. “You know I can’t resist these, thank you, Mrs.—sorry, Patty.”

  She popped two empty cups down in front of the coffee maker.

  “So, what’s your excuse for not getting any sleep?” she asked.

  Angus rubbed the back of his neck before he reached for another granola cookie.

  “It’s this case I’m working on. It’s got me stumped.”

  “Ah yes, the body in the barrel.”

  “You know about it?”

  “The entire town is talking about it, Angus. I don’t know what’s happening, but since your predecessor landed behind bars, all sorts of things in this town are suddenly coming out of the woodwork. It’s like the old crook covered them up or something.”

  “That is truer than you know. Except, as much as I don’t like Hutch, I very much doubt he had any hand in this case.”

  Patty poured the coffee and placed the cups between them on the table.

  “You’re a really good sheriff, Angus. I’m sure you’ll find the culprit responsible for such a heinous crime before you know it. Any idea who it was?”

  Angus shook his head as he took a large mouthful of coffee, suddenly realizing that Patty might just be the person to solve a riddle.

  “Say, Patty, you’ve been a Weyport resident for a while now, right?”

  “Nearly all my life. Why?”

  “I was just wondering, does the name Kim Kincaid mean anything to you?”

  Angst ripped through Patty’s body and the cup of hot coffee slipped out of her hand and splashed across the table. The blood drained from her face and long-buried emotions of hatred shot through her veins.

  It had been a very long time since that woman’s name had been spoken in her home.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Angus jumped up to get the roll of kitchen towels, his eyes searching the grim look on Patty’s face.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as he blotted up the coffee and righted the knocked over cup.

  She snatched the paper towels from his hands and finished cleaning the mess in front of them.

  “Fine,” she said, barely recognizing her own voice.

  “You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I’m fine. I’m just tired. I have to get back to the hospital. Thanks for stopping by.”

  She hurried him to the door as she dropped the soaked towels into the trash can. Angus turned to leave stopping in the doorway, his eyes both tender and suspicious as he turned to look at her.

  “You’ve heard her name before haven’t you, Patty?”

  The look on her face told him he wasn’t wrong but Patty didn’t speak.

  “Look, you can tell me. I’m just trying to figure things out with this case.”

  They stared at each other for several seconds. Patty’s heart pounded out of control, warning her not to say too much.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Angus, sorry. Like I said, I’m tired and I have to get back to the hospital. Daniel needs me.”

  Guilt set in the instant the deceiving words left her mouth and she quickly brushed past Angus to let him out. With her back toward him, she told herself to keep it together, to not give anything away.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Angus said as he stepped onto the porch. “If you need anything, anything at all, you call me, okay?”

  She nodded from behind the door that was already halfway closed, desperate for him to go. She hoped she had succeeded in hiding the emotions that raged within as she watched through the peephole to make sure he left. Once he had, she stood there with her back leaning against the door, an old heartache suddenly sat shallow in her chest. When the first tear rolled down her cheek, she brushed it away with a heavy hand.

  “Pull yourself together, Patty Richardson! It’s all in the past,” she spoke to herself in a harsh tone. “It’s no good dredging it all up now. Let sleeping dogs lie.”

  She smoothed her hair back and with head and heart in alignment again, Patty moved into her bedroom to change her clothes. She was just about done when the doorbell echoed through the house.

  Panic rushed into her stomach once more. If Angus came back with more questions, she would simply not open the door. Relief washed over her when the peephole revealed Ned’s friendly face instead. She opened the door to find him holding out her car keys.

  “Thought you could do with some help getting your car back,” he said before she could say anything.

  “How did you...? I was just about to call you.”

  “Belinda Baxter called me first thing this morning. She told me what happened.”

  Patty took the keys from him.

  “Thanks, Ned. Sometimes I forget how small this town is.”

  He laughed.

  “Yeah, it’s not easy keeping things quiet in this place. Also, if you need me to get Daniel’s car, just holler. I noticed it’s not parked in your drive.”

  “That’s kind of you, thank you. It’s still at the hospital.”

  She didn’t tell him she couldn’t bear getting inside the car again.

  “Consider it done. I’ll bring it later this afternoon. How is Daniel?”

  “He was still unconscious when I left him last night. His injury is quite severe. The doctor said he might not wake up for another few days.”

  “Was it a car accident? I can’t seem to get the gossip straight.”

  “He was impaled by a branch, probably caused by the strong wind. He shouldn’t have been out in the first place.” Her mind trailed to the suspicious blood trail she had found inside his car. “I guess we’ll know for sure what happened when he wakes up.”

  “Well, when he does, tell him I’m ready to take back the winning title in bridge. The guys are also eager to see him back. He seemed a bit distracted at the last game night with this whole lake project debacle between him and Bill.”

  Ned turned to leave then stopped, holding out a scrunched up brown paper bag.

  “I nearly forgot. I found Daniel’s coat on the ground by the lake. I’d recognize this old thing anywhere.”

  She took it from him.

  “Believe it or not, this old thing is what helped us get out of there alive. I used it under the wheel to get his car unstuck.”

  Ned chuckled and tucked his hands inside his grease-stained overalls.

  “You know, Daniel’s always told us you’re too smart for him. I must say, I agree. Not sure my wife would have thought to use a coat to get the car unstuck, and she’s been watching me fix cars for nearly thirty years now. Daniel’s a lucky man.” He belted a laugh as he left, waving one hand up in the air behind him.

  She could have argued his last statement but was eager for Ned to leave and as soon as he was out of sight, Patty rushed to her car. She cast a glance over each shoulder then popped the trunk open. The military green steel box she had dug out of the puddle was still there.

  She snatched it up and hurried back inside her house, setting the box on the dinner table once inside. For a while, she just stood there staring at the rusty box that had sliced her foot open.

  While she had sat at Daniel’s bedside, pondering why he would risk his life to go to the land in such bad weather, it had occurred to her that she’d found what he was looking for. She had seen the dozens of holes all along his land, and the shovel in the backseat of his car, indicating that he had been looking for something.

  Daniel Richardson had a secret, one that compelled him to risk his life to protect. That secret must be contained inside the box. And if she cast her reflections beyond that, the box was quite possibly also the reason he had refused to sell or develop his grandfather’s land.

  Bent on finding out what Daniel was hiding, Patty searched for the key to the padlock. After rummaging through every drawer and box in the house for nearly an hour, she didn’t find the right key and eventually gave up, realizing he must have hidden it inside his stupid little car.

  Like the day before, she wasn’t going to let the car stand in her way. She’d break the box open with a crowbar if that was what it took, and set off to Daniel’s shed in search of his tools. But as soon as she stepped into her back garden, the phone rang. It was the hospital, calling her to come urgently.

  “Why? Is Daniel awake?” she asked.

  “He’s not,” the nurse said. “Mrs. Richardson, you should come immediately. I’m afraid Daniel’s taken a turn for the worse.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Angus left Patty’s more confused than ever. She had recognized Kim Kincaid’s name, of that he was certain. What was she not telling him? Was it possible Vanessa Digby and Kim Kincaid were one and the same? Is that why Digby ran? Could it be that the two of them had faked her disappearance all those years ago? But there was still a dead body. How did she figure into all of this?

  The harder Angus tried sorting through the barrage of questions swirling in his mind, the harder it became to see a connection. There were no answers.

  Frustration crept into his spirit, and he pulled his car off to the side of the road, desperate to take a moment to quiet his thoughts and pray for wisdom.

  Sensing the Spirit’s peace again, he made a call to Tammy.

  “I take it you heard,” she said before he had a chance to speak.

  “Heard what?” he asked, perplexed.

  “About Daniel Richardson.”

  “What about him? Has something happened?”

  “Apparently his condition has worsened. He slipped into a coma a little while ago. They’re not sure if he’s going to make it.”

  Shock ripped through Angus’ insides and all he could think of in that moment was Patty and what she must be going through.

  “No, I hadn’t heard. I just left Patty a little while ago and she said his condition was unchanged,” Angus said, feeling shocked.

  “Poor woman,” Tammy continued. “I mean the storm was bad but bad enough to fling a stick into his stomach? It’s a terrible freak accident. I just cannot imagine what she must be feeling right now. But I’m guessing that’s not why you called. Did you need me to do something for you?”

  Angus took a moment to shift his thoughts back to the case before he answered.

  “I need you to look into Digby’s finances, specifically around eight to ten years ago.”

  “Didn’t Miguel do that already?”

  “He did but I need you to look again, with fresh eyes.”

  “What should I be looking for?”

  “Insurance payouts, but not necessarily a lump sum. It could even be small regular payments. The Presumption of Death Act would have gone into effect seven years after Kincaid’s disappearance, meaning that any insurance would have been paid out. Call me if you find anything. I need to swing by the ME’s office.”

  “10-4, Sheriff.”

  After they ended the call, Angus set off to see Murphy. He found her at her desk doing paperwork when he lightly knocked on her door.

  “Hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said when she briefly looked up without greeting.

  “Is there something I can help you with, Sheriff Reid?” Murphy said stiffly while she continued working.

  The space between them felt uncomfortable and Angus stepped in and closed the door behind him. He could not ignore the obvious.

  “Can we talk, Murphy?”

  “I can’t stop you, so knock yourself out.” Her tone was cold.

  “I’m sorry about the other day and I’m sorry if you were expecting more.”

  “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. This,” she gestured back and forth between them, “was never going to work and you know it.”

  Her words struck a chord that left him speechless.

  Murphy dropped her pen and sat back in her chair, her fingers clasped over her waist.

  “You look surprised at my answer.”

  “I enjoy spending time with you, Murphy.”

  “Just as long as that time is kept professional, right? Message received. Honestly, I’m a grown woman, so let’s move on, shall we? I’m assuming you’re here about the Jane Doe case. A phone call would have sufficed.”

  “I wanted to clear the air, make sure we’re okay.”

  Murphy snickered.

  “You mean you wanted to clear your conscience. I’ll make it easy for you then. We’re okay, Sheriff Reid. There, your conscience is clear. Happy now?”

  “I’ve offended you. I never meant to lead you on, Murphy. It’s just, —”

  “You’re still not over your ex. I get it. Like I said, let’s move on, shall we?”

  Try as he might, Angus couldn’t come up with anything more to say. Murphy had called him out on the truth. He wasn’t over his ex-wife and he wasn’t sure he ever would be. They had shared too much and lost too much to simply move on and act as if nothing had ever happened. Even though she had moved on from him a long time ago, he hadn’t.

  Murphy interrupted his thoughts.

  “You wanted to talk about the case,” she prompted.

  He cleared his throat, still feeling awful for the embarrassment he had caused Murphy.

  “I wanted to ask if you were able to extract any DNA from the body.”

  “Some but it wasn’t conclusive. I sent it to a specialist lab to try out a new method I recently read about in a medical journal. They use next-generation sequencing to determine identity on corpses as old as forty-four years. It’s quite the technological breakthrough.”

  Angus smiled at the way her eyes lit up when talking about identifying corpses.

  “You find it funny,” she said, her guard still up.

  “Nope, I was just admiring your passion for your job. Your eyes lit up as soon as you went all Dr. Bones on me.”

  Murphy’s defenses came down just enough for the corner of her lips to turn up into the tiniest of smiles.

  “When do you think you’ll get the results back?” Angus asked in an attempt to avoid another awkward situation.

  “I’m not entirely sure. This type of testing is new to me. I don’t often get pickled bodies on my table.”

  Angus scratched his chin.

  “How about if I gave you a name? Could you see if there’s a match to the tests you’ve already completed?”

  Murphy’s eyebrows lifted with curiosity.

  “You have a name, already. That is quite impressive.”

  “It’s a long shot. Just a theory I’m working on to rule out possible scenarios.”

  Murphy pulled her laptop closer then looked up, waiting for Angus to give her the name.

  “Kim Kincaid,” he said.

  A frown pulled across Murphy’s brows.

  “Did you say Kim Kincaid? As in the woman who went missing about sixteen years ago?”

  “You’ve heard of her?”

  “Sure have. If I recall correctly, she was working for Bill Baxter at the time. She was a rookie real estate agent or something. I was a sophomore in high school when she just vanished into thin air. She was a real vixen, always dressed in these tight little dresses that showed far too much.”

  Murphy’s jaw dropped open, and she looked at Angus with wide eyes.

  “Wait! Are you thinking our Jane Doe might be Kim Kincaid?”

  Angus shrugged his shoulders as he draped one leg across the corner of her desk.

  “That’s what I’m hoping you can verify for me, Doc.”

  He watched as Murphy’s fingers danced across her laptop’s keyboard, her face excited with prospect.

  “Fingers and toes crossed. If CODIS doesn’t have any DNA for Kim Kincaid on file, there’s no way to know if she’s the one lying in my freezer.”

  The printer whirred next to her and spat out a sheet of paper that she slid across the desk toward Angus.

  Recognizing the protocol required to access the information on the national DNA database, Angus signed the document and handed it back to her. She pressed a few more keys then jumped up, her hands covering her mouth.