By eight o'clock, Sheriff Elias Patterson knew Luke had found something.
He knew because Luke had never before appeared at his office carrying a rust-covered iron box and wearing the expression of a man who had just discovered the dead weren't finished talking.
Patterson looked at the box. Then at Luke. "Where did you get it?"
"The river."
Patterson's face changed.
Luke noticed. "You know it?"
Patterson didn't answer immediately. Instead, he closed the office door. "Tell me exactly where."
Luke did. He told him about the dock. The rope. The initials. The date. And finally, the stranger.
Patterson listened without interrupting.
When Luke finished, the sheriff sat down. For a long moment, he stared at the box. Then he whispered: "That shouldn't exist."
Luke felt a chill. "What is it?"
Patterson looked up. "I don't know."
"That's not what your face says."
Patterson sighed. "You're right."
He reached toward the box. Then stopped before touching it. "I've seen those initials before."
Luke's heart began to pound. "Where?"
Patterson looked at him. "In my father's papers."
Luke stared."William Garrison?"
Patterson nodded. "E. M. C."
He leaned back. "But there's something you need to understand."
"What?"
Patterson's eyes hardened.
"If that box came out of the river now..." He glanced toward the window. "...someone put it there for a reason."
And outside, somewhere beyond the courthouse, the church bell began to ring.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Luke looked toward the sound.
Patterson didn't. He was staring at the box.
And for the first time since Luke had returned to Belle Rive,the sheriff looked genuinely afraid.
Because he knew the initials. And he knew exactly whose secret they belonged to.