The atmosphere around the clubhouse shifted overnight because nobody needed to say what everyone already understood and every conversation seemed to end with someone looking over a shoulder or checking another window. Judge Harrison had died before he could testify.
Walter had been murdered only hours after helping us and every witness disappeared with all loose ends cut.
The pattern had become impossible to ignore. It was practically becoming routine.
I stood in front of the evidence board studying my mother’s journals while Casey quietly added another photo beneath the growing timeline.
Drake walked into the room carrying two mugs of coffee.
“You’ve worn a path into the floor.” He said again as I accepted the coffee.
‘I’ve had worse habits.” I said.
“You’ve had safer ones.” H
