Page 79 of Diamonds in the Mud

“I know you care. I mean, about who did that to Evie. I know you’ll get to the bottom of who killed her. I hope this helps.” Before I could say anything else, she jumped up and took off running towards the walking bridge.

I waited a few heartbeats before opening the note.

“You have rats in your house and the king rat is more powerful than you think. Aim high, Detective Rayne. Thanks for sticking up for me. -Evie P.S. I swear on my son’s life that it wasn’t Declan that attacked me.”

Shit. Why in the hell was I just now getting this? I remembered Evelyn telling me about rats. Why had I just now remembered that? She’d warned me someone in my house was dirty. Abe. Who else?

For the rest of my break, I ran names through my head.

Since Abe’s current partner was Quincy, and I knew he’d been poking his nose in my business already, he was top of my list. Who else? Shit.

“Aim high.”

What did that mean? Was she saying that someone high up in the precinct was corrupt or was she talking about Henry Taylor?

By the time I walked back into my office, my head ached and I was too hot to finish my food. I downed the rest of my iced tea and sat at my desk until I cooled off.

I poured over the details of Evelyn’s case. Hitting a wall, I turned back to Sharon Taylor’s murder case. The image of both women’s lifeless bodies flashed through my mind. The contrast between the cases. The similarities. Everything was a stark reminder of the brutality that had robbed them both of their lives.

With a heavy sigh, I pulled up the autopsy report, the words blurring together as I read through the gruesome details. Sharon had been stabbed multiple times, the wounds inflicted with a precision that spoke of cold-blooded intent. Each gory detail was etched into my memory, a constant reminder of the horrors that lurked just beneath the surface of our seemingly peaceful town.

I traced my finger along the lines of the report, my mind racing as I tried to make sense of the evidence before me. Every detail mattered—from the angle of the wounds to the type of weapon used—and I was determined to leave no stone unturned in my quest for justice.

But as I delved deeper into the report, a sense of frustration began to gnaw at the edges of my mind. Despite my best efforts, there were still too many unanswered questions, too many loose ends that refused to be tied.

With a frustrated growl, I pushed back from my computer, rubbing my tired eyes as I tried to shake off the feeling of defeat. Sharon Taylor’s murder was a puzzle with too many missing pieces, and I felt as if I was running out of time to put them together.

But I was stubborn and refused to give up. With renewed determination, I grabbed a cold soda and sat back down. Squaring my shoulders, I dove back into the case file, ready to fight for justice with every ounce of strength I had.

As I once again sifted through the details of Sharon Taylor’s autopsy report, my mind couldn’t help but scan through the list of suspects.

At the top of that list was Henry Taylor, Sharon’s husband, whose motives were as murky as the waters of the bayou. Henry’s tumultuous relationship with Sharon was no secret, marked by years of infidelity and betrayal. Could his rage have boiled over into violence, leading him to lash out in a fit of jealousy or rage?

Everyone in town knew of the Taylor men’s violent tendencies. They were bullies, each and every one of them. Today’s little scene at the sandwich shop was proof of that.

Next on the list were Wyatt and Beau, whose troubled pasts had left them with more than a few skeletons in their closets. Both men had their fair share of run-ins with the law, and their volatile tempers made them prime suspects in Sharon’s murder. But were they really capable of such a heinous act, or were they simply victims of circumstance?

And then there was Faye, Henry’s mistress, whose tangled web of lies and deceit had ensnared us all. Faye’s connection to Henry was undeniable, but her true motives remained shrouded in mystery. Had she played a role in Sharon’s murder, or was she simply a pawn in a much larger game?

As I pondered the tangled web of relationships and secrets that surrounded Sharon Taylor’s death. I remembered the encounter with Faye at the park.

“She…wanted you to have this. I think it’s why she was killed.” Faye had looked scared.

Evelyn, Evie, had been brutally run down in the alley a block behind her work. Why?

I took out the note and scanned over the simple handwriting. Was this really from Evelyn? It sounded like her. The use of the word rat, which she’d used in the alley that day I’d gone to the bar to talk to Faye.

As I re-read Evelyn’s final words, a chill ran down my spine.

Could her death be connected to Sharon’s murder or was it simply a tragic coincidence? With each passing moment, the list of suspects grew longer, and the truth seemed further out of my reach.

I worked on both cases, going over every note I had until my eyes blurred. My headache grew with each moment I stared at the computer screen. I decided to clock out an hour before I normally would have and head over to drop off the lotion to Edith.

Since it was still boiling hot out, I pushed my Jeep’s AC to the limit while I drove across town.

I walked into the house and called out that I was there. I instantly knew something was off when I didn’t get a response.

Stepping into the enclosed sunroom, I gasped when I saw Edith on the floor, her body lying in a small heap. Dropping down beside her, I felt for a pulse with shaky fingers.