Page 25 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

“Did you talk to Lily’s mother?”

“I did.” A wave of sadness broke her neutral composure. “It didn’t take long to confirm Lily’s identity through fingerprints. I spoke to her mother on Wednesday evening.”

“Have you ever done that before? Notified a parent that their child was dead?”

She gave me a single nod. “It’s the worst part of this job.”

“Sorry.”

“My mentor at the Bozeman PD used to tell me that it was our duty and our responsibility to ease the burden any way we could. That we never know how we’ll change the lives we touch with this job. He once had to tell a woman that her husband had been killed in a liquor store robbery. Years later, he bumped into her. They started dating and they’re married now. He’d always remind me that even the dark days pass. That we heal from our losses. I don’t know if that’s true when you lose a child. But I hope, for Lily’s mother’s sake, that in time, she fi

nds comfort. And I hope that I was able to soften the blow, as much as that was possible.”

I studied her as she spoke, gentle honesty and vulnerability in her words. If she’d spoken to Lily’s mother like this, with such truth and compassion, then yes, she’d softened that blow. As much as that was possible.

The news of Lily’s suicide had traveled quickly through Quincy, as expected. I’d gone into town this morning to place a classified at the paper and the Nelsens had been buzzing with the news. No doubt it would be next week’s headline. Emily had fished for more information and, when I’d stayed quiet, had made a not-so-subtle offer to trade sex for secrets.

I’d decided to post my help-wanted ad online instead of in the paper.

Emily had been a one-night mistake last year. A mistake I was still paying for.

I hoped Winslow wouldn’t turn out to be the same.

“Was there a note?” I asked. “From Lily?”

She ignored my questions and asked one of her own. “Can you tell me more about the road to Indigo Ridge?”

“It’s a gravel road. There’s not much else to tell.”

“There’s a trail going up the ridge. I walked it yesterday. How often do you or staff members of your ranch use it?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because this is an ongoing investigation.”

“Into a suicide.”

“Into a young woman’s death.” She spoke like Lily could have been murdered.

“Don’t drag this out looking for something that’s not there. You’ll only make it worse.”

Her fists clenched. “I’m asking questions because I owe it to that girl and to her mother to do my job.”

“Your answers would have come with a suicide note.”

Winn didn’t even blink.

“So there was no note.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I stopped by your parents’ place before coming here. Your dad said you’ve taken over management of the ranch. I’d prefer to talk with you because he said you were the one who’d know most of the day-to-day routines. But if I should head back there and ask them these questions—”

“No.” Damn it. This was not a topic I’d put on Dad.

The first suicide off Indigo Ridge had been years ago. He’d found the body and taken it really hard. To this day, he avoided that road at all costs. I wouldn’t make him relive that, even if it meant reliving it myself. “Let’s talk in the living room.”

My house wasn’t nearly as big as my parents’ six-thousand-square-foot home, but half that size suited me just fine. The open concept and vaulted ceilings gave my rancher character and an open feel. With three bedrooms and an office, it was plenty for me. I didn’t have six kids to wrangle, unlike Mom and Dad, who’d needed to add on twice to fit us all.

I walked to the couch and took a seat as Winslow went to the opposite side of the coffee table, sinking into a leather chair.