Page 28 of Inside Silence

But we have to run down the lead before we can turn our attention elsewhere.

I really need the cooperation of the CdAPD, and not just to look into Trotter. I’m going to need their help if I want to check into Wyatt’s workplace, talk to his colleagues. It’s less than a two-hour drive to Coeur d’Alene, but I can’t take the risk of sending someone out there to be met with closed doors.

Determined, I pick up the phone and dial the number for Detective Althof, who I’d spoken to before.

“Althof,” he barks, which doesn’t bode well.

“Detective, this is Edwards County Sheriff Colter. We spoke a few days ago.”

“Yes. I remember. Look, Sheriff Colter, I’m sorry, but?—”

“Our victim is a resident of your city, your state, and he’s lying on a cold slab in the morgue, his head bashed in, his face obliterated, and his guts eviscerated,” I interrupt before he has a chance to blow me off again. “I appreciate your workload, believe me, but this isn’t just another murder, this is darker. The violence done to this man was not in a blind rage, as you might expect, but according to the ME, it appears to have been cold and calculated. I have a very uneasy feeling. We need to get a bead on this killer. Soon,” I add with urgency.

That is what kept me up in the darkest of the night, the fear we’ll find another victim at some point.

It’s silent on the other end, and for a moment I fear he’s hung up on me, but then I hear him clear his throat.

“Look, I apologize for unloading on you, Detective Althof?—”

“Rick. Call me Rick.”

“Rick, I’m Savannah, but everyone calls me Savvy.”

“I’d say that nickname is well earned. You have my attention, Savvy.”

I chuckle, a little surprised my rant worked.

“I appreciate it, Rick.”

“So, that’s not the type of killing you usually see in isolation,” he deduces matter-of-factly.

“Exactly.”

“Have you run a check on any similar cases?”

It’s actually what Auden is doing as we speak. He was here when I got to the station this morning, and I told him about my middle-of-the-night concerns.

“I’ve got State Patrol helping me with that.”

“Good. Now, tell me what you need from me.”

For the next twenty minutes I share the details of my case, and explain what I’m hoping he can help with. When I end the call, I have his promise to look into Trotter’s whereabouts immediately. He’s also offered to make initial contact with Franklin Wyatt’s coworkers to see if there is anything interesting to shake loose there. We agreed to keep the other in the loop of any developments.

I feel a lot better after talking to him, but I still have the other issue that kept me up last night left to deal with. This time I use my own cell phone to make the call.

“I owe you an apology,” I tell Nate when he answers.

“For?” he prompts me.

“Storming out without thanking you for dinner for starters. Then, I guess, for believing the worst of you all this time. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Hmm. I get that, but there’s no need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I feel I should. If not for myself, then for the office I represent.”

“This was long before you joined the sheriff’s department, Savvy.”

He sounds almost amused. It’s not difficult to imagine that crooked half-smile I remember well, but have only seen once or twice in recent days. It’s both cocky and disarming, and had me fall harder for him than anything else.