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“That seems a little extreme.”

“I’m trying to make a point.”

“Point taken.”

He gave me a look that suggested he didn’t believe me, which was fair enough. I wasn’t entirely convinced myself. I’d already spent hours chasing records, piecing together old transactions, and wondering what someone might have been desperate enough to conceal for twenty years. The idea of walking away now was about as appealing as abandoning a novel halfway through its final chapter. More importantly, Harvey was dead, and if the past had played a part in his murder, I couldn’t shake the feeling that understanding it might help us discover who had killed him.

“Harvey was murdered,” Josiah continued, his voice quieter now. “We don’t know why, and we don’t know whether the redevelopment has anything to do with it. If someone killed him to keep an old secret buried, they might be willing to hurt someone else to protect it. I don’t want you wandering around asking questions of people who could be dangerous.”

For a moment, I forgot about the folder and the property records. The seriousness in his expression made it difficult to dismiss his concern as an attempt to control me. He was genuinely worried, and that realization stirred feelings I’d been trying very hard to keep in their proper compartments. It would have been easier if he’d simply issued an order in his official capacity. I could have argued with the sheriff. I knew how to do that. It was much harder to argue with the man who looked at me as though the thought of my being hurt had lodged somewhere beneath his ribs.

“I don’t want to become the next victim, either,” I said. “But you know I can’t simply stop noticing things. People talk around me. They always have.”

“I remember.”

“And Ricky and Tammy hear things, too. Between the three of us, we probably know half of what happens in Hartwell Cove before the official version makes it into the newspaper.”

“That is not necessarily something to be proud of.”

“It is when you’re trying to figure out which rumors are worth paying attention to.” I leaned forward, warming to the idea as I explained it. “I tell you what people are saying. Ricky and Tammy can do the same if they hear anything relevant, although I wouldn’t ask them to go looking for trouble. If something comes up during a conversation, I pass it along to you. You decide whether it matters, and the police do the actual investigating. I stick to the records and the things people tell me without being asked to play detective.”

Josiah studied me for several seconds. “And if someone tells you something that sounds important?”

“I tell you.”

“Immediately?”

“Yes.”

“Not after you’ve spent the evening researching it, asking three other people what they think, and convincing yourself you’ve solved the whole case?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “I was going to say that sounded awfully specific, but I suspect we both know why.”

“We do.” He sighed, although there was a hint of reluctant amusement in his expression. “Max, I’m serious. If you hear something that might matter, you come to me first. You don’t confront suspects, you don’t go searching places you have no business being, and you don’t deliberately put yourself in a position where someone might threaten you. You leave the actual investigation to us.”

“Agreed.”

“And you keep me informed about where you’re going if you’re following up on anything connected to the case.”

“That sounds suspiciously like you’re planning to keep tabs on me.”

“I am planning to keep tabs on you.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that I couldn’t decide whether to be irritated or touched. Perhaps I was both. A small, foolish part of me wanted to ask whether he’d been worrying about me before I walked into his office, whether I still mattered enough to occupy his thoughts when I wasn’t standing directly in front of him. The question was far too dangerous to ask. I had no intention of handing him that much power over my heart when I was still trying to work out whether I could trust him with it.

“Because you think I’ll get into trouble?” I asked instead.

“Because I know you will if I don’t keep an eye on you.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say to someone who’s just offered to help.”

“It’s an accurate thing to say to someone whose father once tried to pan for gold in a campground’s decorative landscaping.”

I stared at him. “How do you know about that?”

“Max, half the county knows about that. The other half heard about the laundry incident.”

I groaned and covered my face with one hand. “I was hoping that story would eventually die.”