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“You do have a board,” I reminded him.

“And it is still in the drawer.”

“Let's all be grateful for small mercies.”

The conversation moved on, but the name lingered in my thoughts. Shelby might have been the woman Ricky knew through his boss, or someone else entirely. The remark suggested the speaker had an opinion about her connection to Harvey, but it didn't tell us whether that opinion came from personal knowledge, old gossip, or nothing more than a passing judgment. I didn't want to build a story around a name and a sentence when we didn't even know for certain that we had the right person.

After dinner, Tammy and I cleared the plates while Ricky carried the serving dishes into the kitchen. He was still defending the quality of his suspect board when I took my phone from my pocket and checked the screen. I had no new message from Josiah, and I didn't want to interrupt his work simply because a remark at a salon had caught my attention. Still, he'd promised to keep me informed, and I'd promised to give him anything that might matter without trying to do his job for him.

I waited until we'd finished washing up and Tammy had wrapped the leftovers. Then I stepped into the quiet of the living room and called him. He answered after a few rings.

“Mercer.”

“It's Max. Have you got a minute?”

“For you, yes. What's happened?”

The immediate concern in his voice tightened something in my chest. I didn't want him to think I'd found another body or wandered into trouble, but I was glad he hadn't dismissed my call as an interruption.

“Nothing dramatic. Ricky heard something at the salon yesterday, after Tammy and I left. He was working with a Saturday appointment and overheard someone say, ‘I never did understand what Shelby saw in Harvey Sinclair.’ The person also said something about not knowing what went on behind closed doors. Ricky didn't see who said it, and he couldn't identify the voice.”

Josiah was quiet for a moment. “Shelby,” he repeated. “Does Ricky know which Shelby the person meant?”

“Not really. The only Shelby he knows is his boss's sister, who died a few years ago. He thinks it might have been her, but he can't be sure.”

“Did he hear anything else that might help identify the speaker or explain what they meant?”

“No. His client distracted him, and the conversation had moved on by the time he could listen again. Tammy pointed out that he could have checked the appointment book, but he was busy working.”

“Alright. Thank you for telling me.” His tone shifted into the careful, focused voice he used when he was considering a new lead. “I'll look into whether there's a Shelby connected to Harvey and see what I can establish. For now, it's just another name and an overheard remark. I don't want you or Ricky trying to identify the person yourselves, and don't go asking around about Shelby.”

“I won't. I told you what Ricky heard, and that's as far as I'm taking it.”

“I appreciate that, Max.”

There was something quietly meaningful about hearing him say it. We were finding a way to keep each other informed without pretending I had a role I didn't. He was the sheriff, and I was a writer who knew a great many people in town. I could tell him what I heard and trust him to decide what, if anything, it meant.

“Keep me posted if you learn anything,” I said.

“I will. I promised you I would.”

The words settled between us, simple and direct. He had made promises before, when we were young, and I had learned the hard way that wanting to believe someone wasn't the same as being able to trust them. But he wasn't asking me to forget the past or trust him blindly. He was keeping his word now, in small, ordinary ways that gave me reasons to believe he meant it.

“Thanks, Josiah.”

“Anytime, Max.”

I ended the call and stood for a moment with the phone still in my hand. Josiah hadn't brushed off Ricky's remark, but he hadn't treated it as proof of anything, either. He'd check what he could and see whether Shelby's name led to something worth pursuing. That was all I or anyone else could reasonably ask of him, and more than enough for tonight.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

THE MISSING CHECK

JOSIAH

Monday morning, Max’s call from the previous evening was still on my mind. Ricky’s overheard remark about Shelby might turn out to be nothing more than a coincidence, but I’d learned not to dismiss a detail simply because it didn’t fit what I already knew. The trouble was that, at present, I didn’t know enough to fit it into anything.

I added her name to my notes and wrote connection unknown beside it. The only Shelby Ricky knew was his boss’s sister, who had died a few years ago. That gave me a name to check, not a reason to believe she had anything to do with Harvey Sinclair. I’d look into whether there was a Shelby connected to Harvey and see where that led. Until then, it belonged on the list of unanswered questions, not among the facts of the case.