Page 18

CHAPTER 18

Having shed the tears and fears, I confirmed the fastest route to Savannah was all highway—I-26 across North Carolina, then onto I-95, a straight shot to the coastal city. But according to Google Maps, there was a huge pileup on I-26 and, therefore, major delays.

After Maddie finished cursing like a sailor, I said, “We’ll go down through Georgia, then. There are a couple of routes … another hour, but it’s the best alternative. More scenic too, for what it’s worth. We’ll be fine.”

It seemed it was my turn to do the reassuring now. She’d morphed into an emotional wreck. It was understandable. She’d been with me in Savannah and felt like I did about Andi: a brave, likeable young lady who’d been through too much pain in the short span of her life, and now another blow to her sense of safety.

We threw our belongings into our suitcases, and I mean threw . Even I abandoned my usual desire for “a place for everything and everything in its place.”

While we checked out and headed to my Audi, the first thing I did was to turn off my Do Not Disturb and allow all calls to come through. Vacation time was over. Next, I called Andi, letting her know we’d received her message and that we were heading to Savannah. She wanted to talk about the current events, but I suggested we save it until we were all in person. Though reluctant, she agreed. I asked to speak to her father, Mike Leland, and she put him on the line. I told him the same information, and we agreed to meet at their house.

I also called Almond, who didn’t pick up. I left her a voicemail, apologizing about our need to make an abrupt departure. I explained we had a pressing case but added we’d be in touch if we figured anything out before she or the cops did. I also added: “If you haven’t already, please be sure to tell the detectives everything you shared with us. They’re the leads on this, and they need to know. Give them a chance to do right by you.”

Maddie took the wheel for the first leg of the trip, a long six and a half hours, if we didn’t stop for breaks. And we wouldn’t be stopping anywhere for long—not in my playbook, anyway.

We drove in silence for a while, which was unusual. Maddie had always been the first one to turn on the radio and crank it up on our road trips. The hum of the car’s engine lulled me, and I leaned against the headrest and closed my eyes ...

When my phone rang, I shot straight up and fumbled around for my phone, which had dropped to the floor while I dosed. I reached for it, peered at the screen, and saw the name Katerina Smart , a detective in Chattanooga whom we’d befriended over the years. I glanced over at Maddie, who was eyeballing me.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Kat Smart.”

“Well, are you going to answer it?” she asked, looking at me with a curious expression.

“Yes, of course.”

The truth was, I almost didn’t want to answer. Or hear any voicemails. Or see any text messages. Because most of the time, when she and I had talked over the years, it always involved a murder case. And we spoke often, which was, I guess, sad in the scheme of things, but our reality, nonetheless.

I put the call on speaker. “Hey, Kat. I’m here with Maddie. We’re on our way to Savannah, for … uh—” I didn’t want to get into all the details, so I stayed vague “—another case we’re working on. How are things going with you?”

“What’s the case about? Care to share?”

I paused to consider the question. “Mmm, maybe not yet.”

“Same ol’ Sloane. Keeping it close to the vest.”

Maddie laughed. “Hi, Kat. So, what’s new?”

“Shoot, girl, it’s never good when I call, is it? I’m glad you’re together right now—saves me making an extra phone call. Since we’re all in the crime business, and because we’re friends, of course … well, I just wanted to let you guys know about a big decision I’ve made.”

There was silence for a time. I let it play out for as long as I could stand, which was mere seconds, and said, “And that decision is …?”

“Well, to be clear, I’m still mulling things over, but … I think I’m out.”

“Out of what?”

“The business. I don’t want to be a detective anymore.”

Maddie and I shared a wide-eyed glance, and I sucked in a deep breath before asking, “What happened?”

I suggested we pull over so we could put all our focus on the conversation. We did, stepping out of the car and standing in a scenic overlook with views of Tallulah Gorge. I’d heard of the massive canyon with its picturesque waterfalls, sheer rock faces, and lush forests, but my imagination could never capture what lay before me to the fullest. The juxtaposition of this natural beauty to the everyday ugliness I faced in my career gave me pause.

The wind whipped around us, prompting us to duck back inside the car.

“Go on, Kat,” I said. “Tell us what is going on.”

And she let it all out, sobbing as she got deeper into the story. There had been a gut-wrenching case in recent months, involving a child. Out of habit, I asked her for details, but she said she didn’t want to get into those. Still couldn’t talk about it without having a “total breakdown,” she said. She did tell us she’d cornered the perpetrator, who then proceeded to take shots at her, one bullet lodging in her thigh—and not a major artery—and the others, near misses. She’d fired her weapon in return, center mass. Instant death. She was healing now, but the case had shaken her. Even over the phone, I could feel how deep her mental wounds were. She was working with two therapists, one department ordered and the other one of her own choosing.

“Even with all the support I’m getting,” she said, “I’ve realized I just don’t want to do this anymore. It’s sucking the life out of me.”

No truer words ...

We talked for almost an hour, kneading through the pain. As much as I wanted to tell her things would be okay, I knew they wouldn’t be. Kat was tough, but she’d be forever changed in a way that could affect her approach to her job. She worried about it—that she’d become weak and afraid.

Losing Kat as a detective was a tragedy for everyone. She was one of the finest investigators I’d ever met. As much as I wanted to offer words of comfort, I struggled to know what to say.

Maddie, on the other hand, wasted no time with her response. “This could be an amazing opportunity for growth, Kat. You never know where your new path might lead.”

We ended the call with promises to keep in touch, and I was determined to do just that. Trauma like she was experiencing now could make a person want to crawl into a cocoon and never come out. Maintaining connections with not just family but trusted friends was a cornerstone to healing.

Still, what a mess.

And it made me question my own journey.

As the tires chewed up the miles and the natural splendor of North Georgia swept past my window, I allowed a cold reality to set in.

The list of recent victims who were known to me: Grady, Kim, Iggy, Harmony, and who knew who else? Were their tragedies all related somehow—because of me? Some but not others? I might even add Kat to the mix, except in her situation, she hadn’t been the intended target.

The trajectory of the attacks: Savannah, New Orleans, the North Carolina mountains ... and now a plea that I return to Savannah. Was someone leading me their way, littering the path with death and injury so I’d follow?

Because … of course I would.

My history as a private investigator looped around and hit me square in the face. I now saw myself as the ultimate target, and everyone who knew me, even remotely, could be in danger.