The reopened investigation into George’s crash moved the way all investigations move when the dead are no longer politically convenient but not yet sufficiently inconvenient to force action—too slowly, in bursts, with long stretches of silence. Deputy Torres and a state investigator interviewed the private investigation firm. Under pressure, the investigator admitted he had been hired by Brendan Low to locate a missing minor believed to be “under the influence of unstable women.” He denied knowledge of any harm to George. There were tollbooth records placing Brendan’s truck near Morfield Pass the afternoon George died, but not enough to prove anything definitive. The tow yard owner vaguely remembered a man asking whether Pierce had lived through the wreck before the death had been announced publicly, but memory is a slippery thing in court.
For months, that was where it sat.
Suspicion. Fragments. The shape of a crime without the hand around the weapon.
I made my peace with uncertainty by refusing to let it become paralysis.