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Archie would have liked to have seen indication of an affidavit for a warrant to search Jon Monig’s home, but either Beau believed at this stage of the investigation the request would be denied, or he didn’t think there was enough evidence yet to pursue the Monig angle.

He was probably right about that.

The bottom line was, a homicide investigation, any homicide investigation, required a huge investment of time and effort. Beau had already acknowledged he didn’t really have those resources. So, did that mean he was going to let Archie take a larger role in the investigation?

He suspected he knew the answer, although Beau handing over this file, even if abridged, indicated Beau was more open to the idea than he had been.

It was a long afternoon.

Archie read through the file a second time. He stopped only to go downstairs to collect his DoorDash late lunch/early dinner order from the lobby front desk—and to take a couple of quick naps each time he dozed off reading.

Despite the stresses and strains of the last couple of days, and as little as Archie wanted to admit it, the enforced extra rest was helping. The pressure in his head, the dizziness, the blurry vision and sensitivity to light and noise, were all getting better. He was a long way from one hundred percent, and he was still easily fatigued, but the most worrying symptoms of his head trauma did finally seem to be going away.

In fact, he was feeling well enough to get restless.

Other than the distant sounds of hammering and drills, the inn was very quiet. It was also very warm in his corner room. Air conditioning was not a thing at the Fraser Inn, and Archie’s room was positioned to catch the sun from every angle of the day.

He grew increasingly uncomfortable and bored.

He had not heard back from Beau since he had dropped off the case file, so he had no idea if he was moving back into McCabe House that evening or not.

He did hear from Ms. Madison, inviting him to a second, private, meeting the following day to go over some of the specifics in John’s will, and he heard from Judith informing him that the ME had released John’s body for burial and the funeral would be held on Thursday.

This time Judith did not ask for his input regarding funeral arrangements, and Archie did not volunteer anything beyond saying he would be there. That seemed to be more than enough for Judith, who offered a chilly, “very well,” and hung up.

Archie had not been concerned with Judith’s opinion of him before she’d accused him of murdering John. He was attending to funeral out of respect for John, not to win brownie points.

He still didn’t think she had anything to do with John’s murder.

But it was difficult to completely clear anyone until they had a better understanding of the last few weeks of John’s life. Granted, a chunk of that time had been spent at Archie’s hospital bedside in Wyoming. Archie had not been at his most observant, but he tended to think John had not been actively disturbed or worried (outside of his concern for Archie) until they returned to Twinkleton.

Maybe this was where he could be of practical help in Beau’s investigation, because there did not appear to have been an attempt to create more than a cursory profile of John. Ideally, there should have been notes on John’s personal relationships, finances, health, recent arguments—anything that could provide a potential motive. There just wasn’t much there, unless Beau was withholding that material, too.

It was almost six when Archie closed John’s case file for the final time and pushed his notes aside. By then, his restlessness had escalated to full-out frustration. He didn’t like inaction at the best of times.

He phoned Beau, but the call went straight to message.

Beau couldn’t still be in court. Archie understood that his sleeping arrangements were not a high priority in the life of a police chief dealing with a murder investigation, but it was high priority for him. Was he moving back to McCabe House that evening or not? He just needed a simple yes or no.

Granted, if the answer was no, he was going to do his best to change Beau’s mind.

And maybe that was why Beau was in no hurry to phone him back.

When there was still no response an hour later, Archie decided the quickest way to verify whether the property was still being investigated as a crime scene would be to go check. It would be easy enough to tell from the street if the house was still off-limits.

It’s wasn’t as though he was under house arrest. He’d agreed to lie low, not go into seclusion. He was not sequestered in a safe house.

He phoned an Uber and went downstairs, a little relieved to see that Miss Eyes and Ears Langham was not on duty that evening. He didn’t feel he was violating the terms of his agreement with Beau—he was not planning to canvass the neighbors, for God’s sake—although he knew there was a high probability Beau would not agree with his assessment.

But Beau couldn’t seriously consider the Fraser Inn a safer a location than McCabe House. He just wanted Archie where he could easily keep tabs on him.

In any case, the relief of being outside in the cool evening air, of doing something, anything besides sitting around while his thoughts ran in never-ending circles, was worth the risk of aggravating Chief Langham.

Just as Archie expected, there was no indication McCabe House was still being processed. No crime scene tape, no security barriers, no notice of restricted access, no police presence, no forensic vans, no law enforcement vehicles, marked or unmarked, and thankfully, no reporters or media vans.

In fact, the old Victorian house, with its tall windows and elegant columns, looked shockingly normal. The deep green leaves rustled musically in the evening breeze, casting dappled shadows on the symmetrically cut lawn. The yellow porch lights gleamed in cheery welcome.

Other than the fact that the windows themselves were dark, it looked exactly as it always had all those years ago when Archie would arrive home late after bonfires on the beach or driving around listening to music in Beau’s Jeep or those other more important things he and Beau got up to when they were finally alone—and that, Archie had not expected: that fierce rush of emotion at all those long-forgotten memories.