Chapter 2
One Month Later
A storm had settled like a curse over the quiet town of Cambria, the sky splitting open with sheets of rain that showed no signs of stopping. The wind howled low around the eaves, and every drop against my office window felt like a warning tap.
Something was coming.
I could feel it.
I was sitting at my desk when the front door blew open and a woman rushed in, umbrella in hand. She flicked the umbrella downward, scattering droplets of water across the wood floor. Then she pressed a button, collapsing it as she fastened the clasp around it.
Brushing off her damp gray trench coat, she scanned the room. When her gaze met mine, she walked over, offering a small smile as she stepped inside my office.
The woman was, in a word, disheveled. Her long, dirty-blond hair looked like it had once been tied in a bun, but the blustery weather had pulled it loose. She sank into the chair across from me, unbuttoned her coat, and slipped it off, revealing a cream-colored cashmere sweater.
She blinked at me and said, “Hello. I’m Rosemary Ashford.”
I knew the name, and I knew her story.
Everyone in town did.
Her daughter, Audrey, had been murdered while walking through the woods to a friend’s house, her throat cut from behind.
The path she’d chosen that day was one she’d often traveled, a familiar trail turned fatal.
Since then, whispers swept through town, talk of a killer on the loose, lurking in the woods, waiting to strike again.
Given no other attacks had happened since, I didn’t buy it. Audrey’s murder seemed deliberate and targeted, and it would surprise me to learn it wasn’t.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Ashford?” I asked.
“Call me Rosemary, please. I heard you used to be a detective for the San Luis Obispo Police Department, and a few years ago, you left to open your own detective agency.”
“You heard right.”
“I … ahh … I was hoping to talk to you about …”
Before she could finish her sentence, the tears came, fast and hard like a sprinkler set to full blast. I opened one of my desk drawers and reached for a box of tissues, which I set in front of her.
“I’m sorry about what happened to Audrey,” I said. “How’s the police investigation going?”
“I’m not sure how long a murder investigation should take, but this one seems to be dragging,” she admitted.
“That’s not to say the police haven’t been thorough.
They’ve kept me informed and have been in constant contact ever since my daughter died.
Still, they don’t have much in the way of leads yet. ”
She was right.
They didn’t have any solid leads, not a single one.
None they’d shared with me, anyway.
“Chief Foley is my brother-in-law,” I said.
“He’s married to my sister, Phoebe. And Whitlock, the lead detective, is a close family friend.
I’ve spoken with both of them several times over the past few weeks, and I can assure you; they’re putting everything they have into finding your daughter’s killer and bringing them to justice. ”
She leaned back in her chair, letting out a frustrated sigh. “That may be true. Still, I’d like to hire you. I’m hoping that, with your help, things will move along faster.”
Ever since the day I heard about Audrey’s murder, I’d kept an eye on the case, touching base with Foley and Whitlock now and then, but since they hadn’t sought out my advice, I’d kept my thoughts to myself. Until now, it hadn’t been my place to interfere. That was all about to change.
For most murder investigations, I worked alongside my team—two women who, like me, came from law enforcement.
Hunter had served as a detective in the same county I once did, while Simone had built her career as a forensic anthropologist. Shortly after I opened the detective agency, they both came on board.
Since then, we’d operated as a tight unit whenever we took on a murder investigation.
Hunter remained in the background, piecing together suspect intel, and Simone spoke to friends, neighbors, and potential suspects.
With the agency slowing down over the past two months, Hunter had gone to spend time with her sister, and Simone had taken off on a vacation with Paul—her husband, and my brother.
Without them, the case would require a lot of extra work.
Still, I felt steady and confident I could handle it on my own.
“I’ll take the case,” I said.
“Good. When can you start?”
“Now.”
She pressed her hands together, pleased. “Is there anything you need from me?”
“I know some of the details about the investigation, but there’s a lot I still don’t know,” I said. “Do you feel up to answering some questions?”
“Even if I’m not, I’ll muddle my way through them.”
I reached for the cup of tea I’d made myself earlier, but one sip told me it had already gone cold. I set it aside.
“What was Audrey’s demeanor like in the weeks prior to her death?” I asked.
“Much the same as always, I suppose. My daughter was the quiet type, even around her father and me. She’d chat with us about everyday things, but when it came to her own feelings, she was often cautious about what she shared.”
“Why do you think Audrey kept so much to herself?”
“She was an introvert. Been on the quiet side ever since she was a kid.”
“Do you have any other children?”
She shook her head. “After Audrey was born, we tried to conceive again, but we were unable to have another child.”
I imagined it made the sting of Audrey’s death even more painful.
“What were Audrey’s relationships like with her friends?” I asked.
Rosemary crossed one leg over the other. “She had plenty of acquaintances but not many close friends. I always described her friend groups as her outer and inner circles. Most stayed on the outer edge, but a few, like Talia Kinkaid, were trusted with the parts of Audrey that no one else saw.”
“How long had Audrey been friends with Talia?”
“Since they were four years old. They attended preschool together. Once they met, they became fast friends, and before we knew it, they were inseparable.” She paused, then added, “Talia’s parents have stopped by a few times since the funeral.
They seem worried. They told me Talia doesn’t leave her room most days, and she hasn’t eaten much since Audrey died. ”
Hearing about Talia’s close relationship with Audrey, I looked forward to speaking with her, and I hoped when I did she would be willing to talk.
“Was Audrey dating anyone before she died?”
Rosemary hesitated. “She was dating Logan. He lives across the street from us, and he’s known Audrey since grade school.
I’d always suspected he liked her, but he’d never acted on it, not until a few months before she died.
He turned up at our door with pink roses, a box of chocolates, and a poem he’d written about a teenager with a crush. It was the sweetest thing.”
“I wonder what pushed him to act on his feelings.”
“Oh, I know why he did it. A new boy moved to town, and he didn’t wait long before he showed an interest in Audrey.”
“What’s the new boy’s name?”
“Colton Jagger.”
“What did Audrey think of Colton?”
“She found him to be pushy and aggressive, though I doubt she ever told him to his face. She did send him a text message telling him the attention he was giving her was making her feel overwhelmed, and she thought they should just be friends.”
“How did he respond?”
“Not with any actual words, but he did send her a couple of emojis, an X and a thumbs-down.” Shaking her head, she added, “Teens these days. It’s like no one knows how to communicate anymore.”
“So, Audrey shot Colton down. What about Logan?”
“I assumed Audrey and Logan would date one day, and I was right. Once Logan made his feelings known, Audrey admitted she felt the same, and they started seeing each other.”
In the short time she’d been there, Rosemary had provided me with two possible suspects, and we were just getting started.
Conversations with grieving parents were always the hardest, and Rosemary was no exception.
It never felt right to press, but I had questions, hard ones, and they couldn’t go unasked.
“What can you tell me about the last day Audrey was alive?” I asked.
Rosemary gripped the chair as if steadying herself for the conversation ahead.
“It was an ordinary day. She stayed in her room for most of it, sorting through closets and drawers, trying to choose what would go with her to college and what she’d donate to charity.
It was almost dinnertime, and she came downstairs, letting me know she was heading over to Talia’s house. ”
“Was the visit to Talia’s planned or spontaneous?”
“Planned. They were going to talk about their college send-off party.”
“What’s a send-off party?”
“Talia, Audrey, and a few of their friends had booked a weekend away at an oceanfront house in Santa Barbara. It would have been the last chance for them all to be together before they left for college.”
“What are the names of the other friends?”
She tapped a finger to her lips, thinking. “Let’s see now … I believe the other three were Willow Robinson, Sadie Holt, and McKenna Moore. There might be a couple of others. I’m not sure.”
“What time did Audrey leave for Talia’s house?”
“Oh, about half past five.”
“After sunset.”
Rosemary nodded. “She’d wanted to head over earlier, but packing up her room took a lot longer than she thought it would.”
“How often did Audrey cut through the woods?”
Rosemary gave it some thought. “I’d say more often than not. Talia’s house isn’t far, about a ten-minute walk from our place. We spoke in the kitchen for a few minutes, and then I told her to text me when she got there. She said she would, and that was the last … the last time I ever …”
The tears welled up again, and she reached for a fresh tissue, blotting her eyes and then pressing the tissue to her nose.
I waited.
It couldn’t have been easy for her, sitting across from me, reliving the last moments she spent with her daughter.
A few minutes passed, and I said, “I know how hard this must be, dredging up the memories that are painful to think about. If it’s too difficult, we can talk again later. I have enough to get started.”
Rosemary shook her head and reached for some more tissues. “If it’s all right, I’d like to finish.”
“Of course.”
She took a few deep breaths in and continued.
“After Audrey left the house, I was busy cleaning up the kitchen. A half hour went by before I realized Audrey hadn’t texted me to let me know she’d arrived at Talia’s.
I sent her a text, and when I didn’t hear back, I called Brianne, Talia’s mother.
She said Audrey hadn’t arrived yet, and that Talia had sent Audrey a text message but hadn’t heard from her either.
She figured Audrey must have gotten sidetracked and wasn’t coming over. ”
“What did you do when you learned she never made it to Talia’s house?”
“I ran into the living room, where my husband, Dustin, was watching television. I told him Audrey wasn’t at Talia’s.
He threw on his coat, grabbed a flashlight, and went out to search for her.
Minutes later he returned, his face drained of all color.
The second he walked through the door, he fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands.
Then he looked at me. He didn’t need to utter a single word.
In that moment, I knew something awful had happened. ”