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boyfriend’s home line and cell phone, her home number, and there are a couple friends we’re following up with.” He scratched his head thoughtfully, “Had a couple interesting conversations about town, but I’ll poke into things a bit deeper before I bring it to you.”
    “Sounds good,” Susan responded. “I also want you to have a look at any unsolved murders in the vicinity. Sex offenders too; it doesn’t look like it was a factor here, but see if anything comes up. Put a wide filter on it,” she instructed her Sergeant. “Anything in a three hundred click radius in the past couple years.”
    “I’m on it,” Alex said. He unfolded his long legs and gave her the full benefit of a smile that made his dark eyes warm and welcoming.
    “I’ll get back to it, just wanted to check in and make sure the boss is keeping her chin up.”
    Susan looked at his infuriatingly untroubled features. He was working hard, he was a good cop. And a good friend. But things were always so very simple for Alex, so free of complications. Lucky for him, she told herself, turning back the computer screen and the perpetual reports waiting to be completed.
    *
    Sarah was pretty sure the feeling wouldn’t go away. Ever. How could it? That’s how it was with a secret; like walking around with an egg stuck in your throat. Too big to swallow, but no way you can spit it out, because then everyone will know what you are. All you can do is pretend it’s not there and nothing has changed. You’re still a good girl and things go on like everyone expects them to.
    Maybe if she moved somewhere where nobody knew who she was, changed her name. If she was the only one that knew would it matter, would it even be real?

 
    Chapter 6
     
    Susan crossed her legs on the Harmon’s couch and leaned slightly forward, trying not to let the soft pillows draw her in. The entire interview thus far had something askew about it, and Susan couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
    Through the expected aura of shock and grief Sarah’s parents had explained that their daughter often went to her boyfriend’s (‘fiance’s’ Marion had reminder her husband) home on the weekend after working at the library and stayed overnight, so they weren’t alarmed when she wasn’t at home the Monday evening or the following morning. They had no trouble providing alibis, and didn’t appear concerned when Sarah asked their whereabouts at the time of the murder, a question that was necessary but needed to be worded delicately when addressed to a victim’s grieving family.
    “Just to see the chain of events of the day,” Susan had told them, and Marian readily detailed her schedule; a drive into town in the morning with stops at the grocery store and hair salon, home cooking dinner in the afternoon. Terry reported that his time was spent at home, doing some paperwork in his office in the morning and watching the football game in the afternoon. “Twenty four – seventeen,” he volunteered without prompting. “Argos didn’t break their streak.”
    It wasn’t until she began probing the couple about their thoughts on anyone who might wish their family harm that Susan felt the mood shift; a slight hardening in the expressions on their faces, and a sudden lack of detail in their replies to her questions.
    It had come to light from an earlier interview of Gary’s that Mr. Harmon’s job in Toronto had ended with accusations of financial misdoings, all of which had culminated in the family’s move from the city to the Grey Bruce area. Susan was aware of an immediate change in body language when she brought up the topic.
    “That has absolutely nothing to do with what happened to Sarah. Spending time talking about it is wasting time better spent finding the person who did this to her,” Terry Harmon protested, arms folded across his chest.
    “Be that as it may, you’ll still need to give me their names,” Susan told the man, looking him evenly in the eye. She