Page 26 of Veil of Silence

Harlan slipped it into a clear evidence bag and held it where Austin and Nora could read the three handwritten lines.

Renshaws

October 18

Who added Fog Lake and why?

Nora’s breath caught.

Austin swung his head toward her. “What?”

“The Renshaws.” She pointed at the name. “They’re a Southern Gospel group. They’re singing at our church homecoming.”

“When?”

“October eighteenth. A little more than three weeks from now.”

Austin looked at the note again. “I’m not sure how long they’ve been around. Did your family know them?”

“In a manner of speaking. Everyone on the circuit knew everyone else—or at least knew of them.” Nora searched through memories that had long ago blurred together. Churches. Buses. Fellowship halls. Stages. “We crossed paths with the Renshaws, but I can’t remember anything specific about them.”

Austin’s gaze settled on the first line. “He wrote their name down—and he did it for a reason.”

Harlan lowered the evidence bag. “We’ll have the car processed.”

Nora glanced at Austin. His expression was controlled again. If she hadn’t watched him kneeling beside his father moments ago, she might have believed he was fine.

She knew better.

For the first time since Austin Donnelly had shown up at her house, Nora didn’t see an FBI agent.

She saw a son whose father had just died.

Chapter

Nine

Three hours later, Nora watched the vehicle carrying Jeff Donnelly’s body disappear around the bend. She lifted a prayer for Austin as she tried to imagine his grief right now.

Austin stood beside her at the edge of the parking area, his shoulders rigid. He’d spent the time since his father had been found answering questions, repeating the same facts, and speaking briefly with his supervisor. He’d said the rest of the calls could wait—relatives, his father’s friends, someone in Memphis who could secure his father’s house.

For now, there was nothing more he could do at the trailhead. The two of them walked back toward his SUV in silence.

When they reached his vehicle, Nora held out her hand to him. “Keys.”

His brow furrowed as he stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“Give me your keys.”

He shook his head. “I’m fully capable of driving.”

“I’m sure you are.” She kept her hand extended. “I’m saying you don’t have to.”

He continued to stare and, for a moment, she thought he might argue. Then he glanced back at the woods, and something in his expression shifted.

Without another word, he dropped the keys into her hand.

Nora drove, letting quiet fall between them.