Page 176 of The Case of the Missing Love Stone

“Why would you wonder that?”

“You study the old routes. Now emergency vehicles are driving toward the old county roads.”

A reasonable conclusion. Perhaps too reasonable.

Scarlet’s thumb moves once across my knuckles. “Do you remember anything about the southern route?” she asks.

“I remember that it was removed from the festival materials years ago.”

“Why?”

“Flood damage, I think. The town stopped maintaining several of those roads.”

“Did my grandmother ever tell you where it ended?”

Myrtle is quiet long enough that I hear the faint brush of her breath against the phone. “No.”

The answer is simple, but it doesn’t sound entirely honest.

“Why are you asking me?” Myrtle asks.

“Because you called.”

Another pause. “I called to see whether you were well.”

“And now you know.”

“Yes.”

The line remains open.

Neither woman ends it.

Then Myrtle says, “Be careful, Scarlet. Old roads disappear for good reasons.”

The call disconnects.

Tom lowers his phone. “Nothing unusual about the call itself. It came from Myrtle’s number.”

Wes’s hand tightens around Scarlet’s ankle. “So, the call doesn’t connect her to the threat.”

Scarlet studies the dark phone screen. “She asked whether you were still with me.”

“She may have wanted to know if you were protected,” I say.

“Or whether I was alone,” Scarlet replies.

Both possibilities settle over the room.

Tom looks at the evidence spread across the table. “The call didn’t give us enough probable cause against Myrtle. Neither does the article.”

“No,” Wes says. “But she knew enough to start asking questions before any official information was released.”

“The flashing lights were public,” Scarlet says. “So was the direction they traveled.”

I pull the damaged route photograph toward us. The brown line leaves the annex and continues into the cypress glade before the image breaks apart. The notebook beside it gives us the only confirmed direction. South route. Release site before opening night.

“We don’t need Myrtle to tell us where to look,” I say. “The annex records already did.”