SNOW FELL OVER the grass in front of the police station. I stood at the window, watching each flake consume the green blades still clinging to fall until the bitter end. The cobblestones froze over as the snow accumulated between the crevices of each of Main Street’s hand-laid stones. An eeriness surrounded the station as winter finally conquered Olde Town, but only few knew of the real cold lurking around them.

I turned away from the window and looked across the conference table. Each of the detectives wore the same blank stare I was surely guilty of at that moment. Caleb was the only one being productive. Pictures of the victim were taped to a whiteboard at the front of the room, her name written above and the date of her death printed underneath — today’s date. As detectives, we should’ve been checking every lead we had to find out who did this to Erica Gunter, but our inexperience and the lack of clues led us here to stare and wonder what to do next.

The door opened and Charley entered, carrying a stack of files containing the information about the murder and the victim. She placed one file folder down in front of each detective. Tanner, Jack, and Grayson opened their folders to discover a picture identical to the one Caleb had hung on the whiteboard; a picture of Erica Gunter smiling and alive. Underneath, another picture of her dead body lying face down in a pool of blood. I blinked my eyes and looked away, unable to look at the massacre again.

I caught Evan staring, not at his folder, but rather at Charley while she spoke to Caleb. His eyes followed her until she left the room. I might have been the first to put all the clues together, but I understood now why Evan was so desperate to get to Megan; he couldn’t have what he really wanted. I could relate. I wanted Megan for the same reason. She was our shared reasoning for not going after what we wanted. I knew in my gut what Megan and I were doing wasn’t right for either of us, but maybe she was right for Evan. I knew I had to give her up. It was time.

“Uh … Murphy,” Jack said without looking up from his folder. “This chick … the victim.”

Evan shifted his gaze from the doorway, flipped open the folder, and peered at the picture.

“Oh, my God.” He glanced up at Jack, horror crossing his face.

“What it is?” Caleb asked.

“She was our waitress last night. I didn’t put it together until now. She gave me her number.” Jack pulled out his phone.

“She sat next to me and laid it on thick,” Evan added. “Of course, Heavner does that thing he does and scored her number easily.”

We stared back at the picture.

“So, y’all two were some of the last to see her alive.” My question drew Jack’s attention.

“Except for the staff, the place was pretty empty. There were a few solo people lingering at the bar, but we were her last table. She had said so herself.” Jack’s eyes stared up, gazing across the table but not really looking. “Jesus, how could this have happened?”

“Are we supposed to just wait until it happens again?” Grayson asked as he closed his folder. “All of her neighbors said she seemed like a normal twenty-five-year old. She just graduated from Appalachian State this past May, took a couple years off to care for her grandmother. Her father left when she was a baby and her mother died of cancer when she was twelve. As far as we know, she didn’t have any next of kin. She didn’t have any serious boyfriends. Her roommate said they had a Christmas party for all her neighbors, all of whom seem pretty shaken up by her death. She didn’t have any visible enemies, which leads me to think it was random.” Grayson sighed. “But this is a pretty fucked up random murder.”

“All we have to go on is whatever we get back from forensics, and we’re still waiting for the autopsy. At this point it’s safe to say the killer knew what they were doing.” Caleb got up from the table. “I’m going to call Blair and see if she’s found anything new.”

I stared down at the picture of Erica Gunter. Long dark hair with almond shaped brown eyes. Her tan complexion gave her a Native American appearance, likely Cherokee given the area we lived in. Perhaps she had native blood. I glanced at the picture of the carving on the back of her neck. Was it some sort of Native American symbol or hieroglyph? Maybe I was grasping at straws, but it was something to keep in mind.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out to see a text from Grace.

Grace: Is Erica Gunter dead?

Me: How did you hear that?

Grace: I work with her roommate, Camille Roy. One of the nurses just texted me.

Grace: Is she really dead?

Me: Yes, but please keep it to yourself. We don’t know what’s going on yet.

Grace: It’s bad, isn’t it?

Me: I’ve never seen anything like it.

Grace: I have one of Mike’s guns. I really don’t like guns, but I have it.

Me: Is Chloe home yet?

Grace: Mom and Dad are going to drop her off before they go to the casino for NYE.

Me: Do you want me to come over after work? Make sure everything’s okay?

Grace: I didn’t want to ask, but would you? I am kind of freaking out.

Me: Of course.

Grace: I’ll make dinner.

Me: You don’t have to make dinner.

Grace: I’M MAKING DINNER.

“Maybe a little less smiling, Peterman,” Tanner’s voice interrupted me. “Now’s not the time.”

I looked across the table at him and shoved my phone back into my pocket.

“Erica Gunter’s roommate was a nurse at the hospital.”

“Why would you tell Grace about an ongoing investigation?” Landry asked.

“I didn’t. She already knew. Erica Gunter’s roommate is a nurse. A thing like this doesn’t stay hidden very long around here. Everyone’s going to know soon enough.”

Charley burst through the door. “Where’s Sheriff Harris?”

“He’s on a call with forensics.” Evan answered before anyone could.

“I’ve got the Lenoir News-Topic and the Hickory Daily Record calling to ask questions.” Charley stared at us, hoping one of us would know what to do.

“It’s only a matter of time before the city of Charlotte finds out,” Tanner said just as the phone rang in the lobby.

“That’s probably Charlotte.” Charley ran back down the hall.

“I wasn’t even going to wait three days.” Heavner stared at nothing. His hands shook as his knees bobbed under the table. “I was going to text her tonight. And she’s … dead.” He looked up at me. “How could someone so full of life just be dead?”

My thoughts instantly turned to Mike. I had asked myself that question over and over a lot this year. When people die unexpectedly, the common reasoning usually is that it’s just their time, but I couldn’t accept that. If it was their time, they shouldn’t be blown up or gutted at the peak of their lives. There would’ve still been a lot of life left for Erica Gunter … and for Mike Shuler.

Caleb walked back into the room and slumped down, his hands limp against the arms of the chair. He kept his head down, not making eye contact with anyone.

“They found nothing.”

“Sheriff.” We looked up at Charley as she reappeared in the doorway. “The news trucks are here.”

“Y’all go make yourselves presentable.” Caleb stood and walked out toward his office.

I turned back to face the conference room windows and in the flurry of snow I saw three news trucks from Charlotte. We stood one by one and went into the lobby. Charley was already standing by the door. Murphy went next to her, pulled her away from the door, and locked it.

Caleb entered the lobby and zipped up his coat. He stared at us for a moment then glanced beyond at the reporters gathering outside. “Any suggestions on what I should tell them?”

“I think just tell them whatever you want the public to know,” I offered.

“Maybe just a robbery gone wrong?” Jack questioned as an alternative.

“Maybe just the vague truth with the least amount of details,” Tanner said.

Caleb nodded and walked to the door. He unlocked it and we followed him outside into the snow. We gathered behind him on the sidewalk. A few officers stood in the street to control the crowd gathering near the intersection of Main Street. Caleb’s wife Angie stood on the corner beside Ellie from the boutique and the farmer’s wife. Tracy from the coffee shop stood outside in her apron, her arms crossed over her chest. Megan stepped out of the coffee shop, followed by a few other patrons. Her lips were parted slightly, her breath freezing in the air as the snow fell gently into her curls. These were women I saw every day. This could have happened to any one of them.

“I’m just going to make a statement,” Caleb stated as he stepped up to address the twenty or so reporters, photographers, and cameramen. “The body of Erica Gunter was found this morning inside of her townhouse. As of this moment, we ruling her death a homicide. We have a few leads but no suspects at this time. This is an open investigation so I won’t be answering any questions this evening. We will let you know of any new information as it becomes available. Thank you.”

The reporters hollered their questions one after the other, without regard for what Caleb had said. He spun on his heel and we followed him back inside. Caleb headed straight to his office while we took off our jackets. As I turned to head down the hallway, the door to the station opened. Angie walked in, greeted us with a smile. I felt a tinge of envy as I watched her head back to Caleb’s office. I didn’t envy Caleb because of Angie; I envied him for what he had. I knew there was something between Grace and I, but it could never be more than friendship. I would never be good enough for Grace. She already had the best.

The vibration of my phone caused a constriction in my chest. It was only going to get worse.

Grace: I just saw you on TV! What time should I expect you?

I closed my eyes. I should back out. I shouldn’t go. I need to stay away from her. I opened my eyes and read her text again.

Me: I’ll be headed your way in about 30.

How can I, though? How can I say no to her?

Grace: Chloe is excited to see you.

I couldn’t help my smile, but the guilt seeping through me was too much. I couldn’t do this to Mike.

Me: I’m excited to see both of you.

I should have said I was excited to see Chloe, but that would’ve been a lie. The truth was, I was excited to see Grace. We didn’t have many excuses outside of Thursday night to see each other. I deserved to be happy too, even if it killed me.