Page 68 of You'll Be Sorry

“Me neither.” He remained matter-of-fact. She scowled at him. “You know what I do when I’m not certain of something?” he continued calmly. “I keep my thoughts and wild theories to myself until I can sort out what’s what and absolutely, positively verify the facts in question. Then, I act.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of this. “You have wild theories?”

“Absolutely outlandish ones,” he assured her.

“Such as?”

“Uh-uh-uh. You weren’t listening. I don’t share conjecture. Worst thing you can do. Next thing, you’re solidifying one specific scenario in your mind, then twisting the facts to fit that sequence of events. Sloppy policing, bad science, et cetera, et cetera. A good detective follows the known truth to the solution, not the other way around.”

Mandy just stared at him. Her blood was boiling, her heart practically thumping out of her chest. She couldn’t decide if she hated this man, or just his words, or hell, maybe this entire goddamn case. To be honest, she also felt exposed, anxious, and scared. Because as the state’s designated investigator, Adams could absolutely build a case against her father, and there wouldn’t be a damn thing Mandy could do about it. That her father was dead didn’t even matter. Frankly, a fair number of cold cases concluded with a deceased suspect being found “reasonably” responsible for the crime. In those instances, the cases were considered resolved, not solved, as there would never be a trial.

Is that what this would become? Thirty years later, her father, the town’s police chief, would go down in history as the “likely” perpetrator of the Dixons’ what…? Murder? Because that would be the other “reasonable” inference. All these years later, the family had to be dead, and her father, thanks to DNA evidence, had done it.

She thought she might throw up.

“I don’t know why my father’s DNA was at the scene,” she managed at last. “But him…hurting an entire family, four children, one of them nearly the same age as me? Absolutely, positively, I don’t accept that. There’s another answer. I just don’t know it yet.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Detective Adams shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers yet, either. Like I said, I met your father. Did he strike me as the kind of guy capable of disappearing six people, then spending the rest of his years pretending to obsess over their whereabouts? I’ll admit, that wasn’t my first read on the man.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Keep digging. Ask more questions, run more evidence. The good news is, having gotten fresh results from the lab—and rather provocative ones at that—my bosses will feel motivated to authorize additional resources. This is the first major development in nearly thirty years. I know you don’t like it…but just getting new information is useful in its own way.”

“You’re right. I don’t like it.”

“Plus, you got another crime scene, new skeleton and all that. Seriously, what the fuck is up with that property?”

“Those remains are probably historic. The well was already completely overgrown thirty years ago. Hard to believe one has anything to do with the other.”

“And yet, we don’t know that they don’t. Start with the facts, not the conclusion, remember?”

“Please tell me you’re driving back to Concord now.”

“The remains are in Concord,” Adams agreed. “As well as most of the evidence, and yet…”

Mandy closed her eyes. Shit.

“It’ll take a bit for all that to be processed. In the meantime, I think I’ll do a little more hands-on exploring right here. Check out the site for myself. And didn’t I hear something about a historic ledger and—not at all disturbing—the bones of an infant?”

“Those are in Concord, too,” she tried.

But of course the damn man had done his homework. “Copies of the pages were left behind for your historical society, right? The value of local knowledge and all that. I’m a big fan of local knowledge. The right people, being asked the right question, at the right time. So I think I’ll stick around to check out those possibilities as well.”

Mandy was screwed. He wasn’t going anywhere, the new and improved DNA test wasn’t magically changing, and when others started to learn about the results, because people always heard of such things…

She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. Decided to go with keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. “If you’re really going to do this…”

He waited expectantly.

“You should start at the historical society. Betty and Mason know just about everything and everyone relevant to the town of Shereford—past, present, and future.”

“And they’re working out of where?”

“Second floor of the congregational church. See that pretty white steeple in the middle of the town green? You can walk over in a matter of minutes.” She smiled flatly, hoped it didn’t sound like she was kicking him out, while also hoping he’d take the hint.