Page 76 of You'll Never Find Me

This bitch had ruined his life. She couldn’t get away with it.

He wouldn’t let her get away with it.

Thirty-Four

Rick Devlin

Rick Devlin walked into his house in Anthem, north of Phoenix, at 11:15 that evening. He’d lived here since his wife had walked out on them eight years ago. It was a safe community for a single dad to raise a young daughter.

He greeted his two German shepherds, Max and Lucy. They were brother and sister and he’d raised and trained them since they were pups.

He gave the shepherds dog biscuits and told them they were good dogs for watching the house, then he went to check on his daughter. He was home earlier than normal, and Sam—who should have been asleep—was still reading.

“It’s after eleven,” he said.

She put her book down. “You’re early.”

He kissed her forehead. “You have school tomorrow.”

“Graduation rehearsal. Boring. And we don’t have to be at school until ten.”

“Then graduation on Friday—not boring.”

One reason Rick continued to work the swing shift was because he had a coveted Monday through Thursday schedule—no weekends. Sam had played softball since she was ten. Her team had tournaments twice a month, and his schedule enabled him to go to all her games, even when they traveled to southern California or Colorado. He sometimes picked up overtime—he’d worked two straight weeks during the Super Bowl in Glendale last year—but he spent as much time with Sam as possible. All his overtime pay went into Sam’s college fund.

She wrinkled her nose. “It feels dumb to graduate from eighth grade and then go back to the same school for ninth grade.”

“It’s a rite of passage.”

Sam went to a charter school in Anthem that served kids from K–12. It was a program that focused on classical education with a lot of reading, writing, and discussion. Caroline had selected the school for Sam even though Rick was concerned they were pushing their young child to achieve too much too early. But Sam thrived there and he had never moved her. Consistency was important, especially after the divorce.

“Otto is coming by when he gets off shift.” Clive Otter was a senior deputy with Maricopa County Sheriff’s Department and lived in the gated Anthem neighborhood on the other side of the main road. Otto and his wife, Mickey, were the primary reason Rick finally relented and let Sam stay home alone. They were five minutes away in an emergency.

Company wasn’t a common occurrence on a work night, and Sam knew it.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nope.”

“Dad.”

He’d made a promise to Sam never to lie to her. Good or bad, he told her the truth, even when it was uncomfortable. He might tell her too much sometimes, but he would rather she had information to make informed decisions than go into the world wearing rose-colored glasses.

“Nothing is wrong. I’m asking Otto to help with an investigation.”

She lit up. “What kind of investigation?”

Sam had always been far too interested in his job. Rick hoped she didn’t want to be a cop.

“There’s a trooper I have some concerns about, and Otto knows most of them. I’m going to pick his brain.”

“Oh. Okay. I won’t bother you.” She yawned. “But...ten more minutes? Please? I want to finish my chapter.”

“Since you have a late start tomorrow, fine.” He kissed her again. “By the way, Margo came by the precinct today. She says hi.”

Sam’s face lit up, then immediately clouded. “When are you going to let her come by?”

He didn’t want this conversation now. “Sam—”