North Country(118)

“No, I don’t necessarily think that, but stranger shit has happened. I had a murderer help canvass for the victim’s body alongside her family once, so who the fuck knows what makes sense. We have to go back to the beginning here and look at everyone again.”

And by everyone, I know who he really means.

I’m shaking my head, but I know Terry’s right. A body means new evidence, new lines of questions, new witnesses. Every detail matters. Even the smallest ones. “I’m telling you, on my life, on my parents’ graves, Logan Landry had no part in Holly’s death or any coverup.”

“Then we should be able to clear him really quickly. But I’ve still gotta have a conversation with him.” He leans forward, dropping his voice. “And you need to recuse yourself formally from any involvement with this case due to a personal conflict of interest with a possible witness or suspect.”

My molars grind. “That would mean an official letter submitted to Freeman.”

“Yes, it does.” He says it matter-of-factly. “But what other option do you have here?”

None. Doug already said as much when he questioned me last time about my relationship with the convict.

“We can’t afford any fuckups with this case. This girl and her family deserve that much from us, don’t they?”

“Of course they do, but not at the expense of an innocent man. There are people in this town who’ve already decided Logan did it. With no proof, even with an alibi.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not one of those people, right? Hey, come on.” He leans back in his chair. “Have I let you down yet?”

I purse my lips, reluctant to agree with him. “There’s always a first.”

“Look, Brad Whitley is not running this investigation, and like I told you already, I don’t think Logan Landry had anything to do with this. I’m not after him, but there’s only one way to do this and we both know it.”

My resistance deflates with his words. He’s right. I’m too close to this case and if I stick around, my integrity and the integrity of the entire investigation will be questioned more than it already has been, thanks to idle gossip. “Fine. Yes. We need to figure out who did this to Holly.” And I’ll face the consequences as they come.

“All right, then.” Terry nods. “Just so you’re aware, I’m bringing the three of them in here for questioning.”

“And just so you’re aware, Logan will have a lawyer on speed dial.”





I watch through my office window as Terry and Schmidt lead Logan into our one interrogation room—a small, windowless space with beige walls and a plush couch for both witnesses and suspects alike to feel at ease while they either help us or bury themselves.

I can barely breathe.





Chapter 44





Logan




“So, then, your cousin Jack Barrow dropped you off at your place at 9:30 p.m.,” the big, burly detective—Schmidt—asks while the guy who questioned me on Thanksgiving—Terry—jots down notes.

“Yes, and I have witnesses who can confirm I stayed there all night, including Staff Sergeant Emery McAllister.” My tongue feels coated in mud as I throw her name out there. “I’ve already told you all this when you came to my family’s porch on Thanksgiving. Do you have any new questions for me?” I quote what my lawyer coached me to say this afternoon over the phone before I came in. Lydia Mercer’s name was at the top of the list of defense lawyers Emery sent, right after she called to tell me she’s had to file official paperwork to recuse herself from Holly’s case, basically outing our relationship to her prick of a boss.

That tells me all I need to know about this conversation.

The detectives share a look.

In the corner above, a wall-mounted camera records the entire exchange. I’m doing my best not to squirm, but the last time I was in this building, there were four bodies heading to the morgue, I’d been brought in wearing handcuffs, and no one seemed to give a damn what I had to say.

“The next morning, you went fishing on Lake Temagami,” Terry says. “Tell me about that. ”

“What do you wanna know?” Again, Lydia’s advice—answer specific questions only.

He smirks knowingly. I don’t like the look of him, but I might be biased. “What time did you leave your home for the lake on Saturday morning?”

“It was around seven. The sun was coming up.”

“Did you drive yourself?”

“No, my cousin Jameson picked me up.”

“Is that who you were fishing with that day?”

“Yeah, him and his brother, Jack.” Which I’m sure these two know. “We met Jack there.”

“So, Jameson picked you up at around seven, and you two drove down. Where’d you park?”

“Near the boat launch.”

“And is that where you met your other cousin, Jack Barrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Who brought the boat?”

“Jack did. He was already waiting at the dock for us.”

Terry falters. “He’d already launched the boat?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a subtle nod. “So then you went fishing.”