“I’m not sure. I tried to make him wait, but he insisted. Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Bob is well… Bob. Hold my calls while I deal with him.”

Bob is staring out my window. At the sound of the door opening, he turns around.

“Nice of you to join me.” He grins.

“You’re fifteen minutes early.” I place my bag on my desk and shuffle around him to get to my seat. “What do you want?” I sit down and start sorting through my papers.

“I want to talk.” He walks to the other side of my desk and sits down.

“We don’t talk, Bob,” I say pursing my lips.

“We do now. I want to know what’s going on with your husband’s case.”

“It’s none of your business, and it’s being taken care of.” I take a sip of my coffee.

“What can I do to help?”

“I don’t need your help and why would you want to help anyway?”

“Because the whole thing is a bad look for the firm. I want it closed and buttoned up nice and neat.”

“I’m handling it.”

“Then why am I getting phone calls from reporters?”

I regroup some papers on the desk. “Well, you’re in charge of PR for the firm, so that’s probably why, Bob. But if you really want to help, I need you—”

I’m cut off mid-sentence from his ringing phone. He puts his finger up and pulls it out. He looks at the number and gives an odd, yet inquisitive look. He answers the call.

“Bob Miller,” he says into the phone. Then he is silent for a few moments. “Wrong number.” He hangs up the phone.

“Reporter?” I ask.

“Something like that.” He pauses. “Now, what were you saying?”

“Since you’re familiar with the reporters in the area. I need you to take care of a Rebecca Sanford.”

“Take care of her how?”

“She’s been interfering with the case, and I need that to stop. Can you handle that?”

“Can I handle that? That’s cute, Sarah. Consider it done.” He laughs. He stands up from his chair. “I’ll be around if you need me.” He walks out of my office.

Anne shuffles in right as Bob leaves. “What was that about?”

“Oh, just Bob being his usual cock(y) self.” I roll my eyes.

“By the way, the phone company just called and confirmed the phone at the lake house is being shut off.”

“That’s great. One less thing I have to worry about,” I say while scanning over a handful of papers.

“Did you find out who Adam was calling?” Anne asks.

“It’s nothing to worry about—everything is taken care of.” And I hope I’m right. Adam better not have interfered with the case. I’m having a hard enough time as it is. Anne nods and leaves my office when the phone on her desk rings. A few moments later, she’s talking to me through the intercom on my desk phone. “Sheriff Stevens is on line one.”

I take the call.