Devil in the Deadline by Lyndee Walker

smiled my most earnest smile at the cloud that flitted across Flyboy’s face. “I’ll take good care of them. And I’ll bring them back.”
    â€œYou think they might help someone find out what happened to her?” he asked.
    I nodded.
    Violet leaned away from him. “I’m not sure Jazz would like that,” she said slowly.
    He tipped his head to one side. I held my breath. And my tongue.
    â€œShe’s not here to tell me that. If the books can help…” He shrugged. “What are we going to do with them?”
    â€œThere are only two,” she said, turning a distrustful stare on me.
    â€œI won’t let anything happen to them,” I said.
    â€œVi, will you get them for me?” Flyboy asked. “I can’t look...”
    She nodded, squeezing his hand, and turned back the way they’d come. I didn’t try to follow—they obviously didn’t want me to know where they called home.
    He resumed scuffing the ground with his toe, tears dripping from his bowed face to the dirt.
    â€œI’m sorry,” I said.
    â€œShe shouldn’t be...it’s not fair.” The words tore from his throat. “Why? Why her?” He sniffled.
    I stood silently, not sure there was a way to comfort him. But I could find him an answer.
    Violet returned with two cloth-covered blank books, pain in her eyes when they lit on Flyboy. She looped an arm around his waist and handed me the journals.
    â€œThank you.” I smiled, half-turning for the side street where my car was parked. “Hey, Flyboy?”
    He looked up, dragging the back of his hand across his face and pulling Violet to his side. “Yes, ma’am?”
    â€œWho else knew about the power plant?”
    He shrugged. “Everybody, I reckon. But we could sleep up there with the ladder pulled up.”
    â€œWho would she have let up there with her?”
    â€œNobody but us.” Another tear escaped his left eye and disappeared into the scruff along his jawline. Violet shot me a clear go-to-hell look and reached up to thumb the tear away, murmuring something I couldn’t hear.
    I felt eyes on my back until I turned the corner.
    Money. Romance. Jealous girl. And an unknown, unhappy past.
    I started the car and turned onto East Cary, headed for Grace Street. Aaron better be at his desk instead of on his boat, beautiful summer day be damned.

5.
    Â Â 
    So many secrets

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    The crimson edges of the photo peeping around the file folder in the center of Aaron’s desk told me I didn’t want to see the pictures. He gestured to a black plastic chair in front of me and sank into his gray one before he spoke.
    â€œWhat the hell is happening here, Nichelle?” He flipped the folder open and I cringed, but the top sheet, at least, was a detective’s narrative. A very long detective’s narrative, from the looks of the scrunched-up scribbles covering the page.
    â€œI wish I knew.” I perched on the edge of the chair. “I talked to a few folks today. I have a couple of things I think might help you. And a few questions.”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œThis is a screwy case if I’ve ever seen one, Detective.”
    â€œScrewy. Scary. Sadistic. I have lots of S words for it.”
    I felt my lips turn up in a ghost of a smile. “I take it you don’t have any solid leads yet?”
    â€œNot a one. Please tell me you got something.” He tapped a finger on the paperwork, nervous energy thrumming in the air around him.
    â€œA few things.” I pulled out my notebook and flipped it open, running a finger down the first couple of pages before I looked up. “Those folks who called it in? They knew her. Like, were friends with her. I tried to get a lead on her family, and the guy you saw last night told me they killed her.”
    Aaron’s jaw fell onto his knee, his eyes wide. I gave him a minute to process before I spoke