âHere, you can put these out for your quilters to enjoy.â
* * *
IT DIDNâT TAKE long for the locksmith to do his thing. Once heâd gone, Mac made sure the deadbolts were latched and slipped the new keys onto his key ring. The leather fob had worn to the point that it was hard to read the M stamped onto it. Another of Andiâs craft projects, back before she realized leather came from cows.
Mac picked up his phone and dialed the familiar number. He was in luck. Detective Russ Ralston was in.
âItâs Mac. Just checking in to see if youâve found any new evidence.â
âSorry, nothing.â He sounded almost as frustrated as Mac felt.
âHave you checked out that tip fromâ?â
âYou know I canât share details. Rest assured, weâre following up every lead. That reward you offered has generated plenty of interest. So far none of the calls have panned out, but weâre still working on it. We wonât give up until we find him.â
Mac believed him. Russ was a longtime acquaintance and had a daughter two years younger than Andi. He was taking Andiâs murder as a personal affront. Not that Mac was relying entirely on police resources. The private investigator heâd hired was canvassing everyone even remotely connected to Joel Thaine, Andiâs boyfriend.
Mac never liked him. The first time they met, there was something...off about the young man. Nothing he could put a finger on, just the feeling Thaine was playing a part, saying what he was supposed to say to his girlfriendâs father. Come to think of it, Blossom didnât care for him, either.
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