Page 37 of We Already Dug the Grave

I shuffled to my room, scooping my phone from where I’d left it on the nightstand.

If I’d been coherent, I’d have sent it to voicemail and tumbled into bed, but instead I answered, my eyes at half-mast and voice thick with sleep. “Hello?”

It should’ve been Larry or maybe Carla.

For a flicker of a second, I’d hoped it could be Frances.

Instead, an authoritative male voice poured into my ear. “Good morning, this is Detective Jackson from the Puddle Creek Police Department. Am I speaking with Millicent Waters?”

“Huh?” My eyes blinked open wide, and I scraped a palm through my bangs. For a moment, it was as if the room shifted, tossing me off kilter.

I’d spent a decade dreading this call. A decade running. I remembered the internal whisper—It’s coming, it’s coming, it’s coming—before I drifted off.

Was this what was coming for me?

“Hello? Ma’am?”

“Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “Yes. This is Milly Waters. Why are you calling?”

I braced myself, preparing for the worst.

“Ms. Waters, I’m calling about a lead we’ve recently uncovered on a cold case that you may be able to help me with. Do you remember a boy named Casey Montgomery?”

Chapter 14

Now

Casey?

My chest constricted. “Um. Yes. We…we were friends. A long time ago.”

More than friends. He’d loved me.

“Can you tell me about the last time you spoke with him?”

My brow furrowed. Something was off with the detective’s voice. It set my teeth on edge. It was too even. Too perfect. Like when you call the pharmacy and get an AI chatbot that keeps asking how it can help.

“Ms. Waters? Are you there?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was not awake enough nor prepared for this conversation. “What was the question?”

“I asked if you could tell me about the last time you spoke with Casey Montgomery?”

“Um. Sure.” I took a breath. I have to be careful. Get this right. “I guess…the last time I talked to Casey was maybe a decade ago? We were friends, but I haven’t heard from him since he ran away.” I squeezed my hand into a fist until the nubs of my nails bit my palm. “I don’t understand why you’re calling me. Did…did, um, something happen?”

There was a pause. A heavy breath.

The back of my neck prickled.

“We have reason to believe Casey Montgomery didn’t run away. We’ve been reaching out to everyone who knew him.”

“Wait.” I paused, absorbing his words. “What do you mean you think he didn’t run away?” My heart pounded, and I let my fear slip over my words. “You think something happened to him?”

“That’s right.”

I waited for the detective to say more. He didn’t.

“I…” Be careful. Watch what you say. “I guess I don’t understand. Why… Who told you to contact me?”