been the one who could have saved him?
Every day of the past year, she’d tried to put the haunting memories behind her, tried to forget. But not a day went by that Molly hadn’t remembered, that she hadn’t thought about Tom Sutton, her first patrol partner and closest friend.
They hadn’t been partners the night Sabatini had had Tom murdered, but she’d known the risks Tom was taking. He’d come to her the day before, then called her again only an hour before he’d been shot. Working undercover Vice, he said he’d found something on Sabatini, something that might actually “stick” once and for all. And Tom had turned to Molly for help.
Only…she’d been too late.
“Molly?” Sarge prompted her. “Are you telling me you’re not ready?”
“I’m not sure, Sarge,” Molly said finally, noting how confusion deepened the lines in his face as he folded his arms across his wide, barreled chest.
But it wasn’t just Tom she was thinking of now. There was Mitch.
Mitch was alive. He had to be. She had that gut feeling—the same one Tom had taught her to heed above all others.
Yes, Mitch was alive. And it was Mitch who was the ticket to seeing Sabatini behind bars. It was Mitch’s testimony that would finally do it. She couldn’t waste her time working potentially dead-end leads with the Bomb Squad. She needed to find Mitch. And she needed to find him before Sergio Sabatini did.
“This doesn’t have to do with that search-and-seizure warrant, does it? It was a good warrant, Molly,” Sarge was saying. “You know you weren’t to blame for those charges against Sabatini being thrown out.”
Another deep twinge of guilt. “You know I was, Sarge. But that’s not why I can’t join the team.”
“Why then?”
“I need some time off.”
“What?”
“I was planning to ask you before all of this broke,” she lied. “Besides, you know I haven’t had a single vacation day in almost a year. I’m due.”
“But now?”
“Now more than ever. I’m burned out, Sarge. My cases are all closed. It’s the perfect time. I need a break. It has nothing to do with Sabatini.”
For a second, as she watched his eyes narrow into a scrutinizing stare, she wondered if he saw through her lie. Molly Sparling never needed a break. And the fact that she was asking for it now had to raise suspicions.
She expected him to demand what she was up to, to ask her flat out if she intended to go after Mitch. But he didn’t. Instead, he let out a long breath, shook his head and resumed his seat.
“All right. Whatever you say, Molly. I only figured I’d give you the opportunity before anyone else on the squad. I’d thought…Well, forget it. If you say you need time, then you need time. Besides, your father already thinks I work you too damned hard.”
Molly returned the rare smile that twitched at the corners of Karl Burr’s mouth, the same smile she was quite certain only she had ever been privy to over the years he’d commanded the squad.
“Get your vacation slip to me. I’ll sign it. You can start today, if you like.”
“Thanks, Sarge.”
“Don’t thank me, Molly. They’re your days. ’Bout damned time you took some off.” He picked up his mug, the CPD logo on it lost behind his big hand as he lifted it to his lips.
When he opened the first file on his desk, Molly studied the top of his head, a mass of salt-and-pepper hair that seemed more “salt” than “pepper” these days. She wondered if it was due to age or stress, or more likely a combination of both. Still, there’d been no convincing him to join her father in retirement. Karl Burr was married to the force; more than that, he was committed to his squad.
“You’d better get that slip before I change my mind, Sparling,” he muttered, not looking up. But Molly could see the quiver of a smile on his lips before she turned to the door.
“I REALLY WISH you’d reconsider, Mitch.”
Mitch shook his head, heaving the last of Barb’s bags into the trunk of the rental car.
“I’ll be okay,” he assured her again, closing the lid.
“You know I’m going to be worried sick about you up here alone. It’s not safe. You should go to the police.”
They’d been over this at least a dozen times already, and Mitch had figured that by now Barb Newcombe, one of his closest friends in college, would have remembered his stubbornness.
“I’m not going to the police, Barb. I went to them once, and it almost got me killed. I’m better off keeping a low profile up here.”
She gave him a look, her blue eyes making the sternness appear even sharper. He’d seen that look too many times in the past couple of days.
He forced himself to smile then, and reached out to brush snow from her shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to assure her again.
“Well, you’ve got my numbers in Chicago. You call me…for whatever reason. Just call to let me know you’re okay, ’cuz I know you won’t answer the phone.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said again, feeling like a broken record.
She studied him for a long moment as the snow tumbled down around them in the still air. To his right, he was vaguely aware of the sun setting behind the distant line of firs, but even the slight blush of orange in the sky did little to warm the cold that settled over the northern landscape.
And then, as though Barb had at last given up trying to persuade him to do the logical thing, she threw her arms around him and gave him a hug.
“You’ve got the keys to my Blazer. And I’ve left you some more cash on the kitchen table,” she said, stepping back and lifting a hand to stop his objection before he could voice it. “Take it, Mitch. You can’t risk using your credit or bank cards. Think of it as a down payment. I’m considering an addition to the house.”
She smiled and walked around the car. When Mitch joined her, she turned to him once more.
“Be careful, Mitch. Promise me.”
“I promise. Everything’s going to be all right.” And Mitch wished he could believe his own words.
She nodded, touching his cheek with one cold hand. “By the way, I like you without the beard and mustache, you know?”
“Yeah?”
“You should have shaved it years ago. And the hair…” Mitch ran one hand across the short cut. It was definitely a different look than the one he’d sported the past few years. One he hoped would buy him some anonymity up here in the relatively secluded northern Ontario wilderness.
“…it suits you,” she finished. She flashed him a parting smile
