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I sit in the conference room poring over the phone records, trying to find anything in Gideon’s calls or texts that would suggest something going on leading up to his death. There’s nothing unusual. No numbers that repeat multiple times. No aggressive or threatening text messages. It isn’t until I move on to the information taken from his computer that I find something that seems useful.

Among the various emails that he sent and received, there’s one sitting in Draft status that catches my attention. It’s addressed to Tracy Ellis and the subject line reads: “Situation Report.” The message in the email itself doesn’t seem to be finished, but it’s enough to put me on the phone with Jesse Kristoff.

I find out he has returned to the apartment that he shared with Gideon, and I head there. He opens the door with a concerned, confused expression on his face.

“Agent Griffin,” he says. “What’s going on?”

“Gideon’s records came through. Something showed up that I wanted to ask you about,” I say. I take out the folder with the records and pull out the printed-out email, handing it to him. “Does this mean anything to you?”

“‘Ms. Ellis, I’m writing today to make a report of an inappropriate relationship within the ministry. I have firsthand knowledge of this situation and would be happy to discuss it with you personally,’” he reads, then shakes his head. “I’ve never seen this.”

“It was on Gideon’s computer. According to the time stamp, he was working on it the day he died, but he never sent it. Do you have any idea whom he could be talking about?”

“I don’t know. If he had suspicions about somebody at work, he didn’t talk to me about it. But from what I understand, I think emails like that are pretty common within the ministry,” he says.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“People are encouraged to report anything they think is immoral behavior or that goes against the company culture,” he says. “Gideon has mentioned that before.”

This piques my interest, and twenty minutes later, I’m at Tracy Ellis’s office, showing her the email. She shrugs and hands it back to me.

“He didn’t finish it, and I never got a message like that from him, so I really couldn’t tell you whom it’s about or what it is talking about,” she says.

“But the fact that he was writing you an email like this doesn’t strike you as unusual,” I say.

“Not at all,” Tracy says. “This is part of our company culture. I encourage everyone who works for me to feel free to be open and honest with me about what they witness among the others in our community. All of my employees are held to certain morality and behavior standards. They are clearly outlined to them before they are even formally hired to make sure that they are fully informed and can make a confident decision about their ability to adhere to them.”

“And you expect everyone to play watchdog for each other,” I say.

“I believe very strongly in accountability and responsibility, Agent Griffin,” she says. “I believe that when people make a commitment, they should be held to that, not only by their own moral code and desire to show integrity, but also by the people around them who are influenced and affected by their behavior. It’s just like when a couple gets married. They aren’t standing in front of their friends and family just because they want to share the moment with them. They are asking for witnesses to the vows they are making so that if there comes a time when those vows are compromised, they will be held accountable and encouraged to do better.

“That’s what I expect within my company. I desire for everyone to want the best out of not just themselves but everyone else around them. I want them to feel like they are part of something that is truly admirable, and that means being strong and willing to speak up when something isn’t going the way it should. And it’s not just about making sure that the inappropriate behavior is brought to my attention so I know how to deal with the person who is struggling. I believe that if you know something is wrong and don’t say anything, that is a mark against you. Reporting these things to me is a way for my employees to save themselves from that guilt and shame. Gideon obviously knew something about a fellow employee and wanted to unburden himself. He just didn’t get the opportunity.”

My skin crawls at her words. I understand having standards and specific guidelines for people to adhere to, especially in the kind of work that she does, but this doesn’t feel like protecting company culture and maintaining standards. This feels like pitting people against each other.

“It just doesn’t sit right with me,” I tell Sam later when we’re having a video call. “I mean, I get it. They decided to work for a ministry, and according to her, they knew what the expectations were before they signed their contracts to work for her. But there’s still something really disturbing about her encouraging them to report on each other when they see anything they deem inappropriate. That just seems rife with potential for exploitation and fear.”

“I agree,” Sam says. “I imagine if there was harassment or someone committing a crime on the low, it makes sense to bring that up to superiors. But this is another level. This makes it sound like even the smallest slight could be reported and lead to consequences. And that totally depends on what the other people in the company think of as appropriate or not.”

“Gideon knew something. He was ready to report an inappropriate relationship, but for some reason, he didn’t finish that email and didn’t send it. I really want to know who else in the company has been sending those kinds of reports recently.”

“And if they might line up with the same people who have been getting threats?” Sam asks.

“It’s a strong possibility,” I say. I sigh and pull my hair up into a ponytail to get it off my neck. “Anyway, enough about my day at work. How did the candidates’ night go tonight?”

“It was good,” he says. “It seemed like just about everybody in town showed up. The children’s ID stuff was really popular, which was good. I was glad to see how many parents were getting their kids’ pictures taken and their fingerprints and everything. I handed out all of the flyers that I had printed up and spent a lot of time talking to people about all the issues and things. I think that was my favorite part. Just getting to hear from people what they want to do to make Sherwood better and how I would be able to help as mayor.”

“That does sound interesting,” I say. “You’re getting to see the town from a different perspective now. You’re going to do great as mayor. Everyone already knows and trusts you, and they know that you have the best interests of Sherwood and everyone in it at heart. They’ll know that you are going to do everything you can to make the town the very best it can be.”

“Well, I think that’s true for some people, but Colby Flannigan was still getting his fair share of attention too. I don’t want to get myself too comfortable just because I already have a position in the town. He’s really well respected, and people might lean toward him more because he’s a little older than me.”

“I don’t think that’s going to matter,” I say.

Colby throwing his name into the race is a fairly new development. We didn’t think Sam was just going to coast right into the position of mayor of Sherwood without any opposition, but we didn’t know who was going to also be vying for the position.

“We’ll just have to see,” Sam says. “But it keeps me focusing on my campaign and making sure that people know I’m running and what I stand for.”

“You’re doing a great job,” I tell him. “For someone who has never been in politics like this before, you’re handling it really well. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“Did everyone else have a good time?” I ask.

I know that Dean and Xavier were in town, and I think Dean mentioned that Owen will be hanging out with him for a couple of weeks as well.

“They seemed to. Cupcake was there. She and Xavier were walking around holding hands the whole time,” Sam says.

“How did he look?” I ask.

“Happy,” he says. “Really happy. A little more confident, a little more focused. He even schmoozed a bit with the other attendees and didn’t scare anyone off.”

It’s exactly what I want to hear. Cupcake came into our lives unexpectedly but has effectively made her place with us. She clearly adores Xavier for everything that he is and doesn’t want or expect him to be anything else, which is just the way it should be. But it’s Xavier’s reaction to her and to their gradually blooming relationship that has been more difficult. I know he is still settling into the idea of her, trying to get used to the thought of having another person in his life in that way after losing Lila at such a young age.

Learning about the girl he adored so deeply and lost when he was only a teenager was just another part of Xavier that none of us knew, something that he’d kept locked inside him until the moment he knew he needed to share it. It was heartbreaking, but it helped me understand him a little bit better. I know Cupcake is good for him, and it makes me happy to hear that he is letting himself learn to feel this again.

The sound of my phone ringing on the kitchen table the next morning pulls me away from the cinnamon rolls I’m making to tuck away in Bellamy’s freezer as a thank-you for letting me stay with them throughout this investigation. I’m planning on making the drive back to Sherwood to visit Sam and want them to have something delicious while I’m gone. Wiping my hands off on my apron, I go to the table and see it’s Detective Fuller calling.

“Hey, Detective,” I say, putting the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can go back to the dough while we talk.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m making cinnamon rolls,” I tell him, immediately struck by the tone of his voice. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“You need to get to Ander Ward’s house as fast as possible,” he says.

“What happened?” I ask, my stomach already sinking.

“Sabrina Ward is dead.”