Page 23 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

I waited.

"If anyone has a chance..."

He glanced at the archive box.

"...it's the detective standing in my office."

Outside, thunder rolled across the mountains. A storm was moving in. For some reason... I couldn't shake the feeling it wasn't the only one.

“Deputy Collins is outside waiting to show you to your office, again thank you for coming Reed. I’ll check in with the evidence department to make sure that is everything, if there’s more, I’ll bring it over. You are dismissed, Reed.”

With a nod, I stepped back into the hallway. Deputy Collins led me to the last office at the end of the corridor before stopping outside the door.

"This one's yours."

He pushed it open with his shoulder and stepped aside.

"It isn't much."

I walked inside without answering.

The office was smaller than I'd expected. A single window overlooked the gravel parking lot where my SUV sat beneath a flickering security light, the rain outside easing into a light drizzle. Four beige walls surrounded an old oak desk scarred by years of use. A corkboard covered one wall, riddled with pinholes from long-forgotten cases. A dented filing cabinet stood beside a bookshelf that leaned ever so slightly to the left, its top shelf gathering enough dust to suggest nobody had touched it in months.

It wasn't much but I'd worked in worse. The room smelled of stale coffee, old paper and furniture polish. Somewhere overhead, a fluorescent light buzzed every few seconds. That was going to get fucking annoying.

"If you need anything..." Collins began.

I glanced at the chair behind the desk before looking back at him.

"A better chair."

He laughed.

I didn't.

His smile faded.

"...Right."

"I'll let the sheriff know you're settled."

A nod was all he got before the door clicked shut behind him. Silence settled over the room. The kind I preferred. I dropped my duffel beside the desk, rolled up my sleeves and took one slow look around the office. No family photographs. No forgotten coffee mugs. No personal touches. Whoever had worked here before me had left without looking back.

Good.

So, would I.

A knock sounded against the open door. Sheriff Walker stepped inside carrying another archive box. He set it on the desk with a heavy thud before resting both hands on the worn cardboard.

"This is everything."

The corners were frayed. The tape had been replaced more than once. People had been through these files. Over and over. Searching for something they'd never found.

"I wish I could tell you what we missed," Walker said quietly.

I looked up.

"But?"