“No one said she deserved to die.” He dropped his feet to the floor with a loud thud. “For theory’s sake, who do you think murdered her? The only two people in the house at the time of her death was Susy and her boyfriend, Troy Dearth. He was sleeping off a high. Do you think he was involved? He was investigated thoroughly.”
She lowered her gaze to her clasped hands for a second, then brought her eyes up to meet his. “At first, yes, I did believe he had done it, but he came to see me right after her death. He and I had a chance to talk, and little did I know that he would end up dead two months later. He loved her, Kace. He wouldn’t have her hurt.”
“So then, who?”
With a slight shrug of her shoulder, she sighed. “That I don’t know. Last year Dad sent me her things. It took me a week or so before I finally worked up the strength to look through the box, but in it I found her diary. Toward her final months she wrote of being fearful, worried that someone was watching her, following her. She also believed someone had been coming into her apartment when she wasn’t there. She’d find things missing or moved, small things disrupted. Another entry, one of the last she made, she mentioned an incident when man dressed in all black had assaulted her in an alleyway on her way home. The way she wrote the information it seemed like she knew him but was being careful not to name him. She doesn’t mention any names as if she wishes to keep everything secret. Her drug dealer. Her friends. She talks of people by their physical appearance. Except she did name Sheriff Mansfield a few times. Sometimes I can’t make out what she means—”
“Because she was high?”
She shook her head. “Because she’s intentionally staying vague. I have a feeling she was involved in something, something much bigger than her, and that’s why she died.”
“Users can be paranoid from the drugs.”
“Are you saying she wrote hallucinations in her diary?” She sighed.
“Why didn’t she make a complaint? There are no reports of these incidences in her file.”
“That’s a good question. I don’t have an answer for that. However, it could have something to do with the fact that she suspected that Sheriff Mansfield was involved.”
“How do you get that?”
“Because it’s written in her diary.”
He rubbed his forehead as if he was having a hard time processing her words. “Do you think it’s possible that it could have been her drug dealer? She was afraid of getting into trouble if she reported him?”
“I’ve thought about all different scenarios, trust me. Would you at least read the diary and come up with your own thoughts?”
“Hand it over and I’ll take a look at it when I have the time.”
“Well…” She uncrossed her legs. “I don’t have it with me.”
He blew out a long breath through the corner of his mouth. “You came here to demand that I read the diary, but you didn’t bring it?”
“I didn’t know how things would go,” she admitted.
He stood, rounded the desk and took a seat on the corner. “I know it’s hard accepting—”
“What about the note?” She scooted to the very edge of the chair. “I told Mansfield that it wasn’t her handwriting. I brought in some comparisons, but he shrugged them off.”
“What note?” His brows scrunched.
“She left a note. It should be in the case file.” Seeing his confusion, she sighed. “Are you telling me the note is lost?”
“It’s not lost. I just don’t know where it is.”
“Doesn’t this prove suspicion?”
Several seconds passed. “I tell you what, I’ll find the note and take a look.”
“And the diary?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “No one can accuse you of not being determined. Yeah, I’ll read the diary also. Is it at your house?” She nodded. “I’ll stop by sometime today and pick it up.”
“Thank you, Kace. I knew I could rely on you.”
“It’s too early to be thanking me. I said I’ll look, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be convinced to reopen the case. We’re already low on manpower here. Now do you think I could get back to work?”
She bobbed her head up and down and jumped up, smoothing her clammy palms down her shorts. “Do you think you could—” he nailed her with a narrowed gaze. She decided she’d better not push her luck. “Okay. Stop by any time. You know where I’m staying, right?”
“Yes,” he said grumpily.
“Alright then.” She backed up to the door. “Thank you again.”
“Bye, Tyler.”
Bighearted Cowboy (Tarnation, Texas Book 5) Page 21