Chapter 37
Jackson County Sheriff’s Department — Late Afternoon
Deputy Luke Hale leaned back in the chair along the wall, arms folded loosely across his chest, while Deputy Scout Wilson sat across the table from the woman who had changed the direction of their entire investigation.
She looked younger than Scout expected. Early thirties, maybe. Dark hair pulled into a careless ponytail. Expensive boots crossed at the ankle under the chair.
Not frightened. Defensive. Angry enough to mistake that for strength.
Her name was Katie Martin.
And according to the voicemail she’d left the sheriff’s office yesterday morning, she had information about David Mercer and the disappearance of Caroline Simms.
Scout slid a legal pad across the table.
“You said on the phone you dated David Mercer.”
Katie nodded.
“About a year after Caroline Simms disappeared.”
“How long?”
“Eight months.”
Her tone made it clear she considered those eight months a mistake.
Luke spoke from the wall.
“You ended things?”
Katie gave a small laugh.
“Not exactly.”
Scout watched her carefully.
“How exactly did it end?”
Her eyes hardened a fraction.
“He left me.”
There it was.
Luke shifted slightly but didn’t interrupt.
Scout kept his voice neutral.
“And after the breakup, you decided to call the sheriff’s office?”
Katie leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table.
“No,” she said. “I decided to call when I heard y’all were reopening the Caroline Simms case.”
Scout felt Luke’s attention sharpen behind him.
“And why would that make you call us?”
Katie hesitated.
Just enough to make Scout notice.
“Because David told me something once,” she said.
The room went quiet.
Scout didn’t speak.
He’d learned a long time ago people filled silence if you let them.
Katie finally looked up at him.
“We were fighting,” she said.
“About what?”
She shrugged.
“Everything. The way he treated women. The way he thought money fixed everything. The usual.”
Luke pushed off the wall slightly.
“And during this fight, he said something about Caroline Simms?”
Katie nodded slowly.
“He told me if I didn’t shut up, he’d do to me what he did to her.”
Scout’s pen stopped.
“What exactly did he say?”
Katie held his gaze.
“He said he buried her.”
The words hung heavy in the room.
Scout didn’t react.
“Buried her where?”
Katie shrugged again.
“One of his construction sites.”
Luke stepped forward now, resting a hand on the back of the empty chair beside Scout.
“And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning to anyone at the time?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“I thought he was bluffing.”
Scout studied her face, looking for cracks.
“And now?”
“Now,” she said evenly, “I think he was telling the truth.”
Luke glanced at Scout.
Scout tapped his pen once on the legal pad.
“What made you change your mind?”
Katie leaned back in the chair.
“For starters,” she said, “he’s exactly the kind of man who thinks he can get away with anything.”
“That’s not evidence,” Scout said calmly.
“No,” she agreed. “It’s experience.”
Luke’s voice was quiet.
“You still sound pretty angry at him.”
She didn’t deny it.
“Wouldn’t you be?”
Scout closed the notebook slowly.
“Did David Mercer ever say which construction site?”
“No.”
“Did he say when this happened?”
“No.”
“Did he say anything else about Caroline Simms?”
Katie shook her head.
“That was it.”
Scout stood.
Luke pushed away from the chair.
“Ms. Martin,” Scout said, “we appreciate you coming in.”
She rose too.
But before she reached the door, she turned back.
“You’re going to dig those sites, aren’t you?”
Scout met her eyes.
“We’ll follow the evidence.”
Katie studied him a moment longer.
Then she gave a thin smile.
“You might want to start with the Riverbend project,” she said.
Scout frowned slightly.
“That development was built seven years ago.”
Katie opened the door.
“Exactly.”
And then she walked out.
The door closed behind her.
The room went quiet again.
Luke exhaled.
“Well,” he said. “That’s one hell of an accusation.”
Scout stared at the closed door.
“Yeah.”
Luke tilted his head.
“You believe her?”
Scout shook his head slowly.
“I believe she hates him.”
Luke nodded.
“That much is obvious.”
Scout picked up the legal pad again, tapping the pen against the margin.
“But if even half of that story is true…”
Luke finished the thought.
“…we might be digging up half of Sylva.”
Scout looked up.
“And if it’s not?”
Luke shrugged.
“Then we’ve got one angry ex-girlfriend trying to ruin a man.”
Scout closed the notebook.
“One way to find out.”
Luke raised an eyebrow.
Scout stood.
“Let’s go take a look at Riverbend.”
Two Days Later — Harper & Associates
Eleanor & Katie
The late-morning sun slanted through the tall windows of Eleanor’s conference room, striping the table in light and shadow.
Katie Martin sat at the far end of that table, arms folded, expensive boots crossed at the ankle, like she’d been at the sheriff’s department.
Eleanor flipped the last page of the report Burke’s office had provided in discovery and let it rest under her palm.
“Thank you for coming in, Ms. Martin,” she said.
Katie’s mouth curved in a humorless smile.
“I wasn’t aware I had a choice.”
Across from Eleanor, Scout Wilson shifted in his chair but didn’t say anything. He’d brought Katie over and then taken a seat at the side of the table—present, but silent. Observer, not interrogator.
“Sure you did,” Eleanor said mildly. “You always have a choice about who you talk to. And how much.”
Katie’s gaze flicked to Scout and back.
“So this is what?” she asked. “You trying to scare me out of talking?”
Eleanor kept her tone even.
“No. This is me trying to understand what you’ve already said. Because right now, the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department thinks you may have given them probable cause to tear up half this county.”
Katie’s chin came up a notch.
“Good,” she said. “Maybe they should’ve done it eight years ago.”
Eleanor let the weight in those words hang for a beat.
Then she looked down at the legal pad in front of her.
“You told Deputies Wilson and Hale that while you were dating David Mercer, the two of you had an argument,” she said.
Katie’s expression went hard.
“That’s right.”
Eleanor glanced up.
“And you didn’t tell anyone about this at the time.”
Katie’s eyes flashed.
“I already told them why.”
“‘You thought he was bluffing,’” Eleanor quoted. “Their words. Do you agree that’s accurate?”
Katie hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Eleanor clicked her pen once. “So you’re in a relationship with a man you now describe as ‘exactly the kind of man who thinks he can get away with anything.’ You fight. He says something vile. You assume he’s trying to scare you. You stay.”
Katie’s swallowed.
“For a while,” she said. “I left, eventually.”
“He left you,” Eleanor said. “Your words in the report.”
Katie swallowed hard.
“I wasn’t going to split hairs with the deputies.”
“I’m not a deputy,” Eleanor said. “And we’re not going to skip the details. You cared about him.”
Katie’s fingers curled against her own elbows, knuckles whitening.
“I thought I did,” she said. “I was wrong.”
Eleanor nodded slowly.
“How long between that argument and the breakup?”
“A couple of months.”
“And how long between the breakup and your call to the sheriff’s office?” Eleanor asked.
Katie looked away.
“A year.”
“So”—Eleanor ticked off lightly on her fingers—“an eight-month relationship, a threat you thought was a bluff, two months together after that threat, and then a year of silence.”
“It wasn’t silence,” Katie snapped. “It was me trying to get over him. And then your little true-crime show popped up and reminded everyone what he is.”
“My true-crime show?” Eleanor asked mildly.
“You know what I mean.” Katie’s eyes flashed. “Fading Away. Vanished in the Valley. They’re the only reason this town even cares about Caroline Simms again.”
Eleanor felt Scout’s gaze on her but kept her focus on Katie.
“So you’re saying it was the podcasts that made you call,” Eleanor said. “Not a sudden crisis of conscience about a woman who disappeared years ago. Not fear for your own safety. Public attention.”
Katie’s lips thinned. “I’m saying I realized he might have been telling the truth,” she said. “And I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.”
Eleanor flipped one page farther in the file.
“Interesting,” she said lightly. “Because, according to this, you realized that three days after you sat down with Lila Grant for an interview.”
Katie went very still.
Across the table, Scout straightened.
“Interview?” he said.
Eleanor glanced at him briefly. “Apparently, Ms. Martin gave Ms. Grant a forty-minute interview at her apartment last week. Off the record, according to Ms. Grant. Although that seems to mean something different to her than it does to the rest of us.”
“I didn’t tell her anything I hadn’t already said,” Katie snapped.
“You hadn’t said anything,” Eleanor replied. “Not to the sheriff’s department.”
Silence.
Scout leaned forward slowly now, eyes on Katie in a way that made it clear he had, in fact, missed that.
“You talked to Lila Grant before you called us?”
Katie crossed her arms tighter.
“She asked questions,” she said defensively. “She listened.”
“And she put a camera in your face,” Eleanor said quietly. “Those aren’t always the same thing.”
“Let me ask you something,” Eleanor said. “In that moment—when he said, ‘I buried her’—did you believe him?”
Katie met her eyes.
“No.”
“Do you believe him now?”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
“I already told you.” Katie’s voice rose. “The way he acts. The way he talks about women. The way he thinks he can do anything and walk away.”
Eleanor’s tone stayed soft.
“That describes a lot of men,” she said. “Does it make all of them murderers?”
Katie’s expression hardened.
“He threatened to do to me what he did to her.”
“And yet you stayed,” Eleanor said. “For two more months.”
Katie shot a look toward Scout.
“You going to let her talk to me like this?”
Scout’s voice was even.
“She’s Mercer’s attorney, Ms. Martin,” he said. “It’s her job to ask questions.”