Everywhere She Goes

Gut churning, Colin remembered Cait’s description of the SUV sitting on the road, the silence. If her subconscious hadn’t kicked in, she’d be dead. Maybe sun had glinted off the barrel as it was raised. Maybe something else. The enemy was faceless, deliberate. Colin couldn’t believe they’d ever kidded themselves that Ralston was the gunman.

His eyes met Noah’s, and he saw an echo of his fear.

“I’ll need to interview her again,” Vahalik said. “Is she in her office this afternoon? Do you know?”

“She’s there,” Noah said, voice sounding raw.

“In the meantime, do you know if she’s been involved in anything to do with the airport?”

Noah shook his head. “I’m almost positive she hasn’t.”

Colin squeezed the back of his neck. “She knew Hegland.”

Now they both stared at him. “How?” Jane asked.

“He was…a friend of our mother’s. Cait ran into him briefly her first week in town. They chatted for about one minute. She mentioned it to me. As far as I know, she hadn’t seen him or heard from him again.”

Noah watched him. How he knew there was more to the story, Colin had no idea, but at least he kept his mouth shut.

There wasn’t a good reason to keep their mother’s transgressions secret, but he wanted to think about this before he told anyone. Talk to Cait about it. He couldn’t imagine what an illicit affair that had been broken off damn near twenty years ago could possibly have to do with murder now. It made no sense.

“We need to find out where she was when Hegland was killed. She might have seen something without knowing she did.”

“She was living with me.”

“But surely not home every evening.”

He shook his head numbly. “No. Damn. She’ll be able to tell you when she looks at her calendar.”

“I’ll head over there now, then.” She glanced through the glass at Blake Ralston, who stared down at the tabletop as if the fake wood grain held the answers to his own craziness. “Idiot,” she muttered, and left.

Noah waited until the door closed behind her. “You going to tell me what this is about?”

Colin could play dumb. “What? Ralston?”

“Hegland.”

He shook his head. “Ask Cait. It’s—” Family? His mother was a stranger to him. “Private,” he settled on. “And can’t have anything to do with someone trying to kill her now. For God’s sake, she was ten years old the last time she saw the man!”

“I will ask.” Noah, too, glanced again at Ralston. “Speaking of, you didn’t ask what he’s so goddamn sorry for.”

“You have no idea how much I wanted to.” Then he gave a sort of laugh. “What am I saying? Of course you do. But you know I have to stay out of it if we go after him for stalking. Cait’s my sister. I can talk to him about making a false threat. Beyond that, I’d have to step back.”

Noah surprised him by nodding his acceptance.

“Anyway, I wasn’t sure Cait would ever forgive me,” he admitted. “She’s feeling vulnerable enough right now—”

“Feeling? She is vulnerable,” Noah grumbled.

Colin continued doggedly. “She’s entitled to some privacy.”

A moment of silence as the other man conducted an inner battle. He rubbed a hand over his jaw in what Colin had learned was a characteristic gesture, as if he thought he could physically wipe expression from his face. “You’re right,” he said abruptly. “Okay. I’m going back to city hall. I’ll look in on Cait.”

“Thank you.” Two words that almost stuck in his throat but had to be said.

A smile flickered on that ugly face, and Mayor Chandler departed, leaving Colin looking through the glass at Mr. I Really Am Sorry Now.

* * *

CAIT HAD MET Lieutenant Vahalik in passing. She was surprised to have her appear in her office.

Jane Vahalik didn’t meet Cait’s perception of how a woman in law enforcement ought to look, which she knew perfectly well was stereotypical. Colin had said that the lieutenant was thirty-four and unmarried. She was shorter than Cait, maybe five foot five or six, and curvaceous. She must wear at least a C-cup bra, which had to be a major inconvenience, both given the physical requirements of her job and the perception of the men she worked with and the ones she arrested. She was one of those women who could be described as quietly pretty—hazel eyes, curly reddish-brown hair, round, gentle face. Subtle makeup or none, Cait couldn’t tell.