What He Saw

Stacy M. JonesWhat He Saw First published by Stacy M. Jones 2023Copyright © 2023 by Stacy M. JonesAll rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.Stacy M. Jones asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.Stacy M. Jones has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.First edition This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Find out more at reedsy.com For all of my Geneseo friends Contents Acknowledgement CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12 CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 14 CHAPTER 15 CHAPTER 16 CHAPTER 17 CHAPTER 18 CHAPTER 19 CHAPTER 20 CHAPTER 21 CHAPTER 22 CHAPTER 23 CHAPTER 24 CHAPTER 25 CHAPTER 26 CHAPTER 27 CHAPTER 28 CHAPTER 29 CHAPTER 30 CHAPTER 31 CHAPTER 32 CHAPTER 33 CHAPTER 34 CHAPTER 35 CHAPTER 36 CHAPTER 37 CHAPTER 38 CHAPTER 39 CHAPTER 40 Epilogue About the Author Also by Stacy M. Jones Acknowledgement Thank you to the detectives and forensics teams I’ve had the pleasure of working with through the years and the knowledge and expertise shared with me. Special thanks to 17 Studio Book Design for bringing my stories to life with amazing covers. Thank you to Dj Hendrickson for your insightful editing and Liza Wood for proofreading and revisions. Thanks to my family and friends who are always a source of support and encouragement and to my early readers whose feedback was invaluable. Special thanks to my Geneseo friends who made my early college years so enjoyable. It really was the best place to go to college and memories will be cherished forever. CHAPTER 1In the haze between sleeping and opening my eyes to the new day, my yellow Labrador, Dusty, licked the side of my cheek and pressed his cold nose against my face. It was all an effort to wake me. He wasn’t normally this affectionate, only when he wanted something. I reached out and rubbed his head without opening my eyes. I figured I’d settle him down and then catch a few more minutes of sleep but that wasn’t the case.“Riley,” my mother, Karen, called from the floor below. “I’ve called you three times to get up if you’re going to have any pancakes. They are getting cold!” She grumbled something to herself I couldn’t hear. “I sent the dog up there to wake you.”She waited to see if I’d rouse myself out of bed. Frustrated, she yelled again, “Dusty, you had one job to do!”I patted Dusty’s head as I rolled to my side. “Did you hear her? You had one job, buddy. What did she give you in exchange for waking me up?” He backed up from my bed and left my room without looking back. I had gotten him in trouble with my mother and that was a sin that wasn’t forgivable. It would take treats and belly rubs. Dusty was technically my dog but he’d grown so attached to my mother that when I relocated, he stayed with her. I no longer had his loyalty.Stretching my arms overhead, I let out a half yawn, half growl. It was only seven in the morning and I had nothing to do until noon. Being back in my childhood bedroom brought back many memories of trying to sleep in on weekends when my mother simply wouldn’t allow it. She made big breakfasts and expected my younger sister, Liv, and I to be at the table when it was ready. I always assumed she did that on the weekends to make up for not being there for dinner during the week because she worked the evening shift at the hospital as a nurse.I shouldn’t complain. In my late thirties and married, I was lucky to still have my mother making me eggs and pancakes when I visited. I put my bare feet on the cool hardwood, tugged the covers back up on the bed, and pulled my bathrobe from the chair.The smell of brewing coffee hit me as soon as I got to the door of the kitchen. “What is that you’re brewing?” I went right to the counter to grab a cup.“It’s salted caramel mocha,” my mother said, handing me the creamer and a small teaspoon. She went back to flipping pancakes. “I bought it at that new coffee shop downtown. I thought I’d try something a little fancy.” She pointed to the round table in the middle of the kitchen. “Go eat before it gets cold. Liv already left for work.”“On a Saturday?” I asked surprised.My mother leaned against the counter and lifted her coffee cup to her lips. “Her real estate business is taking off. I’m happy she finally found her niche.”Liv was only a few years younger than me but had struggled to find her career path. She bounced around a lot and even worked for me at my private investigation business