“No sirree,” I chimed, inching closer to Jackson as I held up my chin. I’d never spoken to an officer of the law like that before—with cheekiness—but he was going to have to physically remove me from this discussion because I wasn’t leaving Jackson’s side.
“I had a feeling you’d say that.” Sheriff Magee grinned. “Come on back.”
As the sheriff turned, Jackson bent down and whispered, “‘No sirree’?”
“Shh. I’m nervous,” I whispered back.
He chuckled quietly, then took my hand. We followed the sheriff through the station to the same interrogation room he’d put me in before. Jackson and I each took one of the chairs on one side of the table while Sheriff Magee closed the door and sat on the opposite.
There was a file folder on the table already and it captivated me.
If only X-ray vision were a thing.
Jackson chuckled again. So did Magee.
So I’d said that out loud. “Whoopsie.”
“Willa’s nervous,” Jackson explained. “So am I. Should I call my lawyer?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ve got good news for you today.”
Relief washed over Jackson’s face and the air whooshed out of my lungs so fast I had to clutch my heart to keep it from blowing out too. His hand squeezed mine tight.
It’ll be okay.
I nodded, not needing him to say the words because I was thinking them too.
Sheriff Magee opened the file folder and pulled out a small stack of papers. The writing was small, but with the stencil of a body on one quarter of the page and annotations in various spaces, I knew it was Melissa’s autopsy.
“The medical examiner was extremely thorough with his report. He took into account everything he could, but with the body being found so long after death and in the cold conditions, all we have is a 24-hour estimate.”
I held my breath as he picked up the report to read from the second page.
“Melissa Page died sometime on November seventeenth.”
“The day after she saw me?” Jackson asked.
Sheriff Magee nodded. “She was killed during the time when your whereabouts are accounted for, meaning I have sufficient evidence to rule you out as a suspect.”
My eyes welled with tears, but I fought them back. As I blinked the moisture away, Jackson’s face was one of utter disbelief.
He’d been preparing for bad news all week. He’d been mentally imagining the worst possible situation because he had always expected to be found guilty.
He didn’t trust in justice.
But today it was on our side.
I wanted to leap across the table and hug Sheriff Magee. Instead, I just held Jackson’s hand tighter, letting the immense joy in my heart chase away the last of my fears.
“So, that’s it?” Jackson asked.
The sheriff shook his head. “Not exactly. I still need to find a killer, and to do that, I need some help.”
“With what?” Jackson asked.
The sheriff slid out another paper from the folder. He spun it on the table and pushed it closer for Jackson and me to read.
It was a list of phone calls. I didn’t recognize any of the numbers and they all had out-of-state area codes.
“What’s this?” Jackson asked.
“Your mom’s phone records. I’ve been digging into her finances this past week and came across her cell phone payment on a credit card. The number was awfully high for a single line, so I got ahold of the phone company. Turns out she was paying for two phones even though we only found one in her car. The second one is registered to Ryder Page with an incorrect birthdate.”
“But Ryder doesn’t have a phone,” I told him.
“I remember you telling me that. Are you sure?” the sheriff asked.
“Positive.”
“Okay.” Sheriff Magee nodded. “Well, this phone number sent out a few texts the morning of November seventeenth. If you’re sure it wasn’t Ryder, then I’m inclined to believe it was your mother.”
“But you didn’t find that phone with her?” Jackson asked.
“Nope.”
“Then where is it?”
“That’s the life-in-prison-sentence question. Whoever has that phone is probably the person who killed her.”
Jackson’s jaw ticked, but he stayed quiet as Sheriff Magee leaned his elbows on the table.
“Look, here’s my theory. Your mother came up here and asked you for money. You denied her, but she didn’t leave town. I didn’t find a charge for a hotel room on her credit card so my guess is she slept in her car. Maybe she stuck around to try and ask you for money again. Maybe she was going to try and contact your brother. I’m not sure. But during that time, she was in communication with the person who murdered her.”
Jackson rubbed his jaw. “It actually surprised me that she didn’t try harder to get some money. I didn’t know her, but after she asked me for that three thousand bucks and I said no, she didn’t put up as big of a fight as I’d expected. When I drove off, I would have bet my boat she’d be back.”
“Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to kill your mother?” the sheriff asked.
Jackson blew out a breath, sinking back into his seat. “No. I hadn’t seen her in years. Like I said, I didn’t know her.”
“But we know someone who did,” I whispered, looking up at Jackson. “Ryder.”
“With Melissa gone, you’ll be appointed his legal guardian,” Sheriff Magee said. “I know he’s just a kid, but we need all the information we can get. With your permission, I’d like to talk to him.”
“I get to be in the room.”
“Of course.”
Jackson nodded. “We’ll bring him down later this afternoon.”
“Good.” The sheriff collected all of his papers, putting them back in the folder. “I’ll walk you guys out.”
I stood from my chair, still holding Jackson’s hand. We hadn’t bothered to take off our coats when we came inside, so we went right out the door, escaping the station as fast as we could.
“I don’t want to bring Ryder here,” I told him as I buckled my seat belt in his truck.
“Me neither.” Jackson sighed. “But I don’t think we have a choice. Let’s go home and wait until his test is over. Then we’ll go get him.”
“Okay.” I glanced at the clock on the dash. “Maybe we could go get him after lunch.” That would give him time to finish his test, though I didn’t have a lot of hope that he’d pass. He’d been distracted during each of our study sessions this week.
Jackson drove us back home, parking in the driveway. The boat got the garage in the winters so I braced for the cold as I opened the truck door. I followed behind Jackson as he led the way to the front door, staying close as we hurried inside. But the minute he put his key to the door, he stopped.
“What?” I peered around him. His eyes narrowed at the door, which was open a crack. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
“Did you lock up when we left?”
I nodded. “Yes. I always do.” Ever since the night Ronny had come after Thea, I’d made sure to lock all of our doors.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Jackson looked over his shoulder, inspecting the footprints on the sidewalk.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, sticking close.
He held up a hand, silencing me as his eyes narrowed on a particular print in the snow. It was larger than the prints left by my shoes. It was larger than the prints left by Ryder’s sneakers. But it was smaller than the prints left by Jackson’s boots.
One thing was for certain: it hadn’t come from any of us.
My heart was racing as Jackson followed the prints along the sidewalk as they led back to the front door. We both knew something wasn’t right. This wasn’t the mailman delivering a package or a solicitor visiting the house.
I knew without asking that someone had broken inside his house.
Maybe they were still in there.
Jackson turned to me, the same worries etched on his face as I was sure were on mine, and pointed over my shoulder. “Get in the truck and call Magee. Tell him to get here. Now. I think someone tried to break into the house. I’m going to go check it out.”
“Jackson, no y—”
“Go, Willa.”
Reluctantly, I did as I was told, running back to the truck, careful not to slip on the snowy sidewalk. I closed myself inside and took out my phone, ready to call the sheriff just as Jackson disappeared into the house.