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But the truth was already taking shape in my mind, and I didn’t like it. The volunteer had been too frightened for this to be a simple fall. Josiah had called for an ambulance with a voice that left no room for delay, and now he was treating the area as a scene that needed to be protected. Whatever had happened behind the bandstand, I had the sinking feeling the person the ambulance was being called for was beyond anyone’s help.

A few minutes later, Josiah came back toward the crowd with another deputy at his side. He spoke to the officers holding the perimeter, then turned to the woman who’d discovered the body, who was now sitting on a folding chair with a volunteer beside her. He crouched in front of her, speaking quietly, his attention fixed on her face. I couldn’t hear what he asked, but I saw her shake her head, then gesture toward the rear of the stage.

Whatever she told him made his expression tighten.

The deputy moved toward the festival committee, speaking in a low voice. One of the committee members, a woman with a clipboard clutched to her chest, let out a wail.

“I can’t believe Harvey’s dead!”

For a moment, I couldn’t make the words fit together. Harvey had been standing near the stage less than an hour earlier, checking his watch and looking toward the musicians. I’d watched him disappear behind the bandstand, and I’d wondered what was bothering him. I’d thought he might be worried about the bank, or the argument with Owen, or the message he’d received on Friday.

I hadn’t thought he was in any real danger. Just a nasty spat where one person said things meant to hurt and unsettle, ordinary disagreement stuff that would eventually blow over, mostly, at the very least. And now he was dead. Had the stress of whatever it was prompted a heart attack? Or was it something worse?

Tammy reached for my hand. Her fingers were cold.

“Oh, Max,” she whispered.

Ricky looked as though someone had knocked the air out of him. “I just saw him. He was talking to someone. I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Where?” I asked.

“Near the committee tent. I told you. I couldn’t see who it was, but they were wearing one of the festival T-shirts that had the word Committee on the back.” He looked toward the bandstand, his face drawn. “I should have paid more attention.”

“You didn’t know anything was wrong.”

“I know.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I know that.”

I wanted to reassure him, but my own thoughts were moving too quickly. I kept seeing Harvey’s expression when he’d read that text, the sudden strain around his eyes, the way he’d left Dixie’s without ordering anything. Then I remembered the argument with Owen Price and the words that had sounded so much like a threat.

Perhaps you should consider whether your business can afford to remain independent.

Had Owen been angry enough to hurt him? Was the argument connected to the message? Or was there something else, something older, that Harvey had been afraid someone would uncover?

The text had mentioned twenty years ago. That was a long time for a secret to remain buried, but secrets had a way of surviving in small towns. They settled into family histories, business arrangements, old friendships, and the things people chose not to discuss. Sometimes they stayed hidden because no one remembered them clearly anymore. Sometimes someone worked very hard to keep them that way.

I looked toward the bandstand again. The deputies had established a perimeter, and the paramedics were coming back out. One of them spoke briefly to Josiah, who listened without interrupting. When the paramedic finished, Josiah nodded once, then turned toward the body again.

I couldn’t see Harvey from where I stood, and I didn’t want to. But I found myself remembering the way he’d looked at his watch earlier, and the fact that he’d seemed so intent on keeping track of time.

A watch, I thought suddenly.

I didn’t know why the idea came to me. Perhaps it was because Josiah had asked the paramedics something, and one of them had gestured toward the body’s wrist. Perhaps it was because I’d noticed Harvey checking the time before he disappeared behind the stage. Whatever the reason, the thought lodged in my mind.

I waited until Josiah came back toward the edge of the cordoned-off area, speaking to another officer. When he glanced in my direction, I took a step forward, stopping well short of the barrier.

“Josiah?”

He looked at me. For a moment, I saw the man I’d known all those years ago beneath the uniform and the responsibility. Then his expression settled back into the controlled calm of the sheriff.

“Max, I need you to stay outside the perimeter.”

“I will. I just wanted to ask whether there’s anything I can do.”

“Not right now.” His voice softened slightly. “I may need to speak to you later, but for the moment, I need everyone who saw Harvey tonight to remain available. If you remember anything unusual, even something that doesn’t seem important, tell me.”

I nodded. “I saw him earlier. Near the stage.”

“Did you speak to him?”