Nine
“I can’t believe this,” Nate said as he looked through the emails. “This is great! You see this, Father?”
When I called Nate and told him I’d do an interview, he was happy. When I told him about what I had found and Helen’s response, he was practically speechless. Meeting him at The Perfect Cup the next day and showing him copies of the emails, he was jumping up and down in his chair like a little boy on Christmas morning.
“Don’t you see, now this has everything. It’s not just a cold case of a senseless murder,” Nate went on, holding up the emails. “This is a cold case of a planned murder. She was stalked, and whoever was stalking her killed her—”
“Now really we don’t know that,” I interrupted.
“—and we have the police doing nothing when new evidence is shown to them.” He
