won’t ever stop wondering, or worrying,” she said, wanting it to be perfectly clear.
“I wouldn’t expect you to. I just want to know that you won’t obsess over it anymore, that you’ll take back your own life. Our life, together.”
He didn’t say, “Or it’s over,” but the words hung in the air between them as clearly as if he had.
“Will you give them a real chance and enough time?”
“I’ll give them a full, honest chance, if you’ll agree to accept whatever they find.”
Still feeling torn, she nevertheless gave the only answer she felt possible.
“All right,” she said.
Dane let out an audible breath. And then he was on his feet, pulling her up and into his arms. Kayla nearly wept at the rightness of it. She clung to him, trembling at how close she’d come to losing this, losing him, forever.
She didn’t know how long had passed before she heard a slight jingle from the doorway. She looked up and saw Cutter trotting into the room, tail up and waving slightly. The dog came to a stop before them and sat down. He looked at them both, with an expression Kayla would have sworn was satisfaction.
Quinn and Hayley followed the dog into the room.
“Why Cutter?” Kayla asked.
“He came with the name,” Hayley said, reaching to scratch the dog’s ear. “He turned up on my doorstep with only that tag. I tried but never could find out where he’d come from.”
The dog tilted his head way back to look at Hayley without changing position, looking so comical as he did it that Kayla couldn’t help but laugh. She heard Dane chuckle beside her and savored the sound of it; she’d missed his easy laugh, not just in the past two weeks but, she had to admit, for much longer. She’d caused that, she realized regretfully.
“I spent some time with a friend of mine this afternoon,” Quinn said in a back-to-business tone as Hayley gestured everyone back into the chairs around the table. “Sam works for the local sheriff’s office.”
Kayla sank down into the chair Dane held for her, feeling suddenly wobbly. This all seemed to be happening quickly now that it had begun. She’d only met them this morning, yet Quinn was already on the move.
“The sheriff’s office? But the Redwood Cove police handled the case.”
“Yes, but the sheriff’s office did most of the forensics. Redwood Cove doesn’t have its own lab.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“Sam was able to pull up the reports for me, at least the basics. The locals trust this guy. He can get answers that others can’t because of that.”
“Meaning distraught, crazy family members?” Kayla knew she sounded bitter but couldn’t help it.
“They never thought you were crazy. And if you were distraught, they knew you had good reason.”
She sighed. “To be fair, they never said so. In fact, except for a couple who got sharp about it, told me they had their suspect and to give up, they were unfailingly kind. Even though I knew they hated to see me coming.”
“Cops get that way when they can’t help any more than they already have.”
“But they could have. They could have looked for other suspects, they—”
She stopped herself before the whole, long, painfully familiar spiel unwound.
“You know what the evidence was,” Quinn said gently. “It’s pretty conclusive that Chad was in that room either during or shortly after the murders.”
“The bloody fingerprint,” Dane said.
Quinn nodded. “He’s certain it was left while the blood was…”
Quinn’s voice trailed off as he looked at Kayla.
“Still wet,” she finished for him. “Fresh. I know. I’ve heard it a hundred times. I’m used to it.”
“It’s still awful,” Hayley said. Her tone was comforting, But nothing made Kayla feel better than Dane’s arm tightening around her.
“Yes. But I’m not going to fall apart talking about it. I really don’t wallow it in every day.”
She managed not to glance at Dane, although that wasn’t really fair; he’d never accused her of wallowing, only of letting this overwhelm her own life.
“I never disputed that Chad was there,” she said. “He still came to the house often, even though he’d moved out. He’d sneak in through the den window and then head to the kitchen to get food.”
“So you think that’s what he intended that night? To raid the fridge?” Quinn asked.
She nodded. “And he found them lying there in the den, panicked and ran.”
“Leaving you to deal alone, as usual,” Dane said.
Kayla stiffened. Dane let out a compressed breath. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I’ll stop. I promised you one last shot, and I meant it.”
Neither Quinn nor Hayley commented on the moment of tension, although Cutter let out a low whine as if he’d sensed it and didn’t like it. After a moment, Quinn nodded.
“I’ll need some things from you,” he said. “Names of Chad’s friends, his interests. Then the same about your parents.”
Kayla frowned slightly. “That was all in the reports.”
Quinn smiled. “Sam bends the rules occasionally, but letting those reports leave the building without me jumping through all the hoops would be outright breakage. That we’ll have to do through regular channels.”
“Sorry,” Kayla said. “Of course.”
“Plus, I’d like to save bugging the local LEOs for things we can’t get anywhere else. They’re a bit understaffed.”
“Back at the time, they were thinking about dissolving the department and going back to contracting with the sheriff because they were so strapped and short-handed,” Dane said. “Maybe that’s partly why they didn’t pour a lot of energy into this after Chad ran.”
Kayla wanted to hug him for that; it was the most supportive thing he’d said lately.
“I know once they verified where I’d been at the time of the murders,” Dane went on, “they didn’t have time to talk to me much.”
“Except when you’d push them, for me.”
He deserved that acknowledgment, Kayla thought. For a long time, longer than most would, Dane had been right there with her, at the forefront, pushing, nagging, pressing the police. Dane gave her a smile that further warmed a heart that had been nearly frozen by his departure two weeks ago. He’d really asked so little of her, she thought. And she’d abused that.
