first year was the worst. I tracked down every lead the police had and searched for my own, but there was never anything. The surveillance cameras were out in the garage. There were no witnesses other than the woman who called 911, and she didn’t see the actual shooting. No physical evidence we could match to the case. No personal connects we could find to any of his cases where a patient might have a grievance toward him. Nothing ever panned out.”
“It’s not completely surprising. A third of all murder cases are never closed.”
“And yet, my job is to track down felons, and five years later, I have no idea who killed my husband. It’s something I wake up to every morning and go to bed with every night.” Her eyes looked glassy. “I should have found his murderer years ago.”
He understood the need for resolution from his own life, and how not finding closure could interfere with moving forward. “Closure’s important.”
“It is.” She fiddled with one of the buttons on her shirt. “There’s another piece of the puzzle that you’ll find odd.”
“What’s that?”
“I haven’t even told my sister this, but every year, someone leaves a single black rose on his grave on the anniversary of his death.”
“That is odd. And you think it’s the killer?”
“It would make sense, but what’s the point, other than to ensure I remember his death? And it’s not as if I’m going to forget.”
“Any card or note with it?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nope. Just the rose.”
“There can’t be a lot of florists who sell black roses. It seems like it wouldn’t be too hard to trace it.”
“They’re definitely not as popular as your typical flower, but you’d be surprised how many places sell them. And because you can order them online, narrowing it down has been impossible.” She shrugged. “It just makes an already hard day harder.”
“You should have taken the day off and spent it with your family,” he said.
“Like I said, staying busy has always been my answer to grief.”
“Did you find a flower today?” Jonas asked.
She nodded. “I haven’t had much time to process it yet, but this year . . . this year it was on my bed.”
“Wait a minute, Madison. Someone was in your house? If this is your husband’s killer—”
“I know. I need to find them.”
“Yes, but you also need to go to the authorities.”
“I will. I’m just worried that nothing will come of it again. I never felt my life was in danger, and we’ve always thought it was a random robbery.”
“Leaving a black rose on the anniversary of your husband’s death isn’t random. And leaving one in your bedroom? That’s personal and it’s a threat. Someone is trying to mess with your head.”
“I know.”
“And it means that whoever killed your husband sees this as personal. Very personal.”
“I promise I’ll file a report when I get back and have my locks changed, but there’s not much I can do about it right now.” She waved her hand in the air as if she could dismiss it just as easily. “I feel like I’ve just laid my whole life story out in front of you, and I still don’t know much about you.”
He dumped the small bag of peanuts into his hand and shrugged, popping a few into his mouth. “Probably because there isn’t much to know.”
“I doubt that’s true. You can start wherever you want. Favorite travel spot. Favorite food besides seafood chowder. Taken or single.”
“Let’s see. Thailand, sushi, and single.”
“Interesting. Thailand’s on my bucket list. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised about sushi, though I am about the single status.”
He shot her a wide grin. “Because I’m such a great catch.”
“One could do worse, I suppose.”
“Thanks. I think. Let’s just say I’m sure there’s someone out there for me, but I’ve never met anyone willing to put up with both me and my job.”
“So the job always wins? That’s kind of sad. Lots of marshals find a way to juggle both.”
“With the right woman.” He hesitated. “Maybe one day.”
“You’ve never come close?”
“Once, but that’s a story better left for another day.”
She gestured to the empty cabin around them. “You have something better to do right now? I just told you things I’ve never even told my sister.”
He stared into the fire, wondering how he was going to get past her inquisitive nature.
“Fine. I won’t push, but I do have another question for you then,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“Were you serious about opening up a bait