“Do you still think they might have had something to do with it?” she whispered.
“I never did. But we can’t be sure they haven’t been in contact with someone without realizing it.” Same applied to everyone at the camp. “Owen’s secrets died with him.”
“Does that means the worst is over?” she asked, shivering. “I can’t imagine what will happen if the trouble has only begun. How much worse will things get?”
Whoever was at the hospital acted alone and sloppy, missing the shot at her. Frank would gather any evidence left behind but identifying the suspect via fingerprints or trace DNA finding wasn’t always a sure thing. The assailant might not have a criminal record. The case demanded old-fashioned detective work, too. Daniel puzzled over the note and the phone call about the power. Was it indicative of collaboration? Who placed the call?
Did one mastermind reach out to a hired gun? Or had the perp written it out to remind themselves to stay on task? That didn’t make a whole lot of sense unless the person suffered from multiple personalities or short-term memory difficulties. He wasn’t a criminal profiler or a licensed mental health expert. He couldn’t pass judgement on the killer. But he could focus on the facts from the victim, and he still had someone under threat.
“Hey. Wait.” She stopped on the path, pointing to a broken branch on the ground. “This is the spot. The lightning strike. I was here.”
“Are you certain?”
She nodded. “I was heading out of the office.” She spun around, pointing at the outbuilding several yards away.
He held up a hand. “Don’t move.” He assessed the ground.
After the storm, as he feared, the ground had no clear footprints. The jagged pieces of the broken branch reflected a violent snap from a high velocity weapon. Finding a bullet or shell casing now would be impossible. He needed reinforcements with more ballistics experience.
As if on cue, his cell phone buzzed. “Hold on a second.” He paused and retrieved the phone. Spotting the name on the screen, he was glad to be in one of the few sections of the property with decent cell coverage. “This is Sheriff Goodwin.”
“Sheriff, Agent Reynolds calling you back. Can you talk?”
Emma stood still and close.
No doubt, she strained to hear every word. He meant what he said. He trusted her. He didn’t make a move to put distance between them. “I can.”
“Nothing concerning came up regarding the candidate or his wife. I have been in touch with his security detail about the situation. They were not aware of any letter or threat.”
Emma widened her eyes.
“Interesting,” Daniel said.
“Very. I told them I’d make contact. I’d like to stop by and review the letter.”
“Of course. I’d appreciate the assistance,” Daniel said.
“I’ll be there in a few days.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Daniel said and ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket.
Emma tapped a finger against her chin. “Huh.”
Huh, indeed. He wasn’t sure what to make of Margaux not telling her team about the note. Had she written it herself for attention? Why? He hadn’t remembered her seeking the focus of others all those years ago. Back then, he thought he recalled someone hiding away from too many prying eyes.
“Maybe she doesn’t trust her husband or his team,” Emma said.
Daniel considered it. That was a different, and potential, angle. He could neither rule it out or in. He was glad to have back up on the way. “Where is she now?”
“Jennifer and Christine went for a hike. Margaux wanted to play Clue. She’s probably still in the bunk waiting for more players to join her.”
“I guess we know how we’ll be spending our day.”
She stiffened, drawing up her shoulders.
“In the library. With the candlestick.”
She relaxed, letting out a shaky exhale. “Good. I really don’t want to go traipsing around in the woods right now.”
