Page 25 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

The case was finally starting to breathe.

I rubbed a hand across my jaw and glanced toward the window. Darkness had settled over Blackridge, the last of the rain giving way to a cold, still night. Most of the station had emptied hours ago, leaving only the occasional muffled voice somewhere down the hallway.

The clock on my monitor read 10:07 p.m.

Later than I'd realised. Tomorrow Max will finally be here. That thought eased something inside me. Six years together, longer than most partnerships I'd had.

I closed the last file and returned every document to the archive box exactly where I'd found it. Nothing out of place. Nothing forgotten.

Tomorrow...

The real work would begin.

The hallway lights had been dimmed by the time I finally left my office. Susan looked up from behind reception, a coffee mug warming her hands as she smiled over the rim.

"Calling it a night?"

"For now."

"I think you'll like Blackridge."

"I'll decide that myself."

Her smile faltered for only a moment before returning.

"Fair enough. Goodnight, Detective."

I answered with a nod and stepped outside. Somewhere in the distance thunder rolled across the mountains, growing quieter as the storm moved away. The parking lot glistened beneath the security lights, every puddle reflecting pale yellow against the dark asphalt.

My SUV waited where I'd left it. I set the archive box carefully on the passenger seat before climbing in behind the wheel. The cabin smelled faintly of worn leather, coffee and cedar from an air freshener I'd meant to replace weeks ago. I plugged my phone into the console, typed the address from memory and watched the route appear across the screen.

142 Willow Lane.

Estimated arrival, eleven minutes. Close enough. The engine rumbled to life as I eased out of the parking lot. Blackridge drifted quietly past the windshield. Storefronts stood dark behind rain-speckled windows while the last few businesses finished closing for the night. A waitress stacked chairs inside the diner. Someone swept the pavement outside the bakery. The smell of fresh bread still lingered in the cool air.

Small towns shut down early.

The GPS guided me away from the town centre, where the streetlights gradually gave way to long stretches of darkness broken only by the occasional porch light glowing between the trees. Houses grew farther apart. Gravel replaced asphalt. Wind stirred the branches overhead, carrying the soft clinking of forgotten wind chimes through my open window.

Peaceful.

At least on the surface.

The trees eventually opened onto a narrow gravel driveway. A modest white cottage sat beneath an old maple tree, its porch light casting a warm glow across the front steps and flower beds lining the path. Simple. Quiet. Exactly what I'd asked for. Enough room for Max. Enough distance from everyone else.

I parked, killed the engine and sat there for a moment, studying the house. It wasn't home, not yet but it would do.

I climbed out, lifted the archive box from the passenger seat and headed toward the porch. Halfway to the front door, a light caught my eye through the trees.

The neighbouring cottage. Someone was home. The realtor hadn't mentioned neighbours. Didn't matter. I wasn't here to borrow sugar. The front door creaked softly as I unlocked it. Fresh paint mixed with cedar greeted me the moment I stepped inside. I set the archive box on the kitchen table before heading back outside.

The night had settled over Blackridge, cool and quiet after the rain. One by one, I carried the remaining boxes from the SUV, stacking them neatly against the living room wall. Kitchen. Books. Bedroom. Max. There weren't many. I'd learned a long time ago that the less you owned, the easier it was to leave when life inevitably demanded it.

By the time I shut the tailgate and locked the SUV, the driveway was empty. Everything I needed for now was inside.

I closed the front door behind me and looked over the small pile of boxes lined neatly against the wall. I paused on Max’s box. That box probably held more tennis balls than all my clothes combined. The thought almost made me smile.

Almost.