The next morning after we dropped Sawyer off at school, and after learning that Saul didn’t need me at the shop site, we headed out to see Patrick O’Malley. Santiago had decided it might grease the wheels of information a bit if I went along to talk about family history and the cabin. It was all relevant to the case, especially given the new information about the Fletchers we’d found the night before, but Patrick didn’t need to know that.
Patrick was a middle-aged bachelor who owned a gorgeous house tucked into a little valley just north of Charlottesville. I wasn’t sure exactly what someone did to be able to afford this kind of luxury at our age, but I was eager to find out.
When we pulled up to the stone-faced house, we saw a man with dark hair walking through a nearby pasture with a t
