Page 161 of Secrets Along the Shore

I’m not putting up much of a fight, because he’s right. My job’s never brought trouble to my literal doorstep before, but now that it has, I admit it would have been nice to have a recording of whoever had a run-in with Bilbo.

“Good,” Cole says.

“Well, now that you’re happy, I need you to do me one more favor,” I say. “Find out who could have accessed and deleted the message John Parry left on the tip-line Sunday morning. Assuming his wife is right about him calling, something happened to it and it didn’t erase itself.”

Cole groans. “Come on, Sophie. You’re not really going there, are you?”

I shrug. “Kinda think I have to.”

“Do you honestly think someone on the inside is interfering with the case? Isn’t it more likely that Parry’s family got confused? Maybe he called the wrong number.”

“Maybe. But we don’t know. Which means we keep our minds open and check every angle.”

“Okay, yes, I’ll check. Now—” He scoots down to lie flat, pulling a knitted throw over him—“go to bed. I need some sleep.”

“What are you doing?”

Cole tilts his head up, peering at me through squinted eyes. “I’m not leaving you here alone tonight. Daniel would have my hide. What if that guy comes back?”

James should be the one to stay on my couch to make sure I’m all right. To be here if anyone else tries to break in.

You may never be able to trust him again,a little voice in my head taunts. I do my best to ignore it.

“What’s Lucy going to say?”

“I can tell you what she’ll say if I leave you here by yourself after what happened. ‘Get your butt back over there and make sure Sophie’s okay.’”

“I’m not by myself. I’ve got Bilbo.” Unfortunately, Bilbo picks that moment to yawn and burrow into the blanket he’s now sharing with Cole.

“I think he’s gone off duty,” Cole says, smirking.

“Don’t let the fur-ball routine fool you. He’s never off duty.”

“Either way, tonight, you’ve got me too.”

Cole isn’t buying myI’ve-got-this-on-my-ownschtick.

Thank goodness.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

Cole leavesby six in the morning, but only after making me promise to respond to his texts during the day when he checks on me. He tells me that if I don’t, he’ll either come looking for me himself or send patrol units after me.

I wish he was kidding, but he’s not. If Daniel was the type of cop who would talk a jumper off a bridge, Cole’s the type who would lasso the jumper and drag him down. Subtlety is not his strong suit. Since the last thing I need is Cole barging in with the cavalry while I’m working my case, I make the promise, fully intending to keep it.

I curl up in my upholstered rocker-glider, staring out the window, my third cup of coffee growing cold in my “Sweet Home Alabama” mug. A thousand things are screaming for attention in my mind, and I can’t think for all the noise.

A bomb’s gone off in my world and I’m afraid if I handle this the wrong way, I’ll detonate another one. If I have any chance of salvaging my future with James, I have to get this right.

In order to do that, I need to understand what’s going on. I have to figure it out—at least part of it—before I confront them.

“I will not let one mistake ruin his chances.”

What mistake? And whose was it?

A cardinal alights on a nearby pine branch, and I watch its titteringsteps. Its tiny beak opens just enough to release a ripple of music. It flies off, and I yearn to go with it.