Maybe Myles would take it away and she wouldn’t have that decision to make.

Pivoting at the window, she glanced at the phone. She’d already picked it up several times, planning to call the sheriff and cancel their plans for the evening. She just hadn’t gone through with it yet. He scared her almost as much as The Crew, but for very different reasons. In her precarious situation, she had no business feeling the way he made her feel. Even if she didn’t have some history to hide, she wasn’t sure she could take an emotional risk at this point in her life. So what if she was lonely? So what if she craved the support of someone who could be with her in body as well as spirit? She didn’t want to get involved with Myles for the wrong reasons. She’d just become healthy again. So had he—if she was right in assuming he was finally over his wife’s death.

Cancel. Do it. Let him deal with his issues while you deal with yours. If he chose to push her about the gun, she’d just tell him she didn’t feel safe without it. That was the truth, wasn’t it?

Certain she’d reached the right decision, she hurried over to the desk, but the phone rang before she could lift the handset. Caller ID couldn’t provide her with a number or a name but she answered, anyway, just in case it was Vera or Jake. “Hello?”

“Laurel?”

Virgil. She tightened her grip on the phone. This was the first time her brother had called since they’d left Washington D.C., but the second time she’d spoken to him today. It had to be important. “You’ve found Rex.”

“No.”

She ducked her head so her voice wouldn’t carry up the stairs. “Something else has happened?”

“Not yet. Maybe it won’t. At least, that’s what I’m hoping.”

An image of Trinity Woods, the young woman who used to babysit for her in Colorado, appeared in Vivian’s mind. Trinity had been shot and killed on Vivian’s doorstep four years ago, a death Vivian felt she could’ve prevented if she’d been more assertive about making sure someone warned Trinity. That was when Virgil had just gotten out of prison and The Crew had entered her life. Back then she hadn’t known them like she did now and she’d had no idea they’d kill someone completely unrelated to the situation and for no reason whatsoever.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why are you calling?”

She couldn’t help the coolness in her voice. The ease with which he seemed to have moved on while she continued to struggle made her angry. Maybe that anger was petty; in fact, she recognized that it was. After what he’d been through, he deserved the happiness he’d found. But in her most difficult hours, when she dragged her isolation around like a ball and chain, she grew too discouraged to be magnanimous and simply wanted to find fault.

“I feel bad about this morning,” he said.

“You don’t have anything to feel bad about.” Despite her rapidly shifting emotions, she knew he’d change things if he could. He was at the same disadvantage she was, merely reacting to forces beyond his control.

“I should’ve been more prepared for your call,” he admitted. “I didn’t respond to it the way I would’ve liked. I was too much of a hard-ass.”

“You said what had to be said. What else could you do?”

“That’s just it. I feel so boxed in, so…helpless. I want to make the past right for you, for Peyton, for all of us. I can’t tell you how much I regret ever joining The Crew—”

“You were only eighteen and fighting for your life inside a maximum-security prison. You had no choice.”

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “Still, I wish I could reassure you instead of scaring the hell out of you. But I’m afraid the second you drop your guard it’ll be like two years ago when…”

He didn’t finish, and she knew he couldn’t even speak the words. “I understand.”

He cleared his throat. “Have you heard anything more about Pat Stueben’s murder?”

“No.” But if she kept her date with Myles, she might. And that was why she wouldn’t cancel, despite her earlier determination to do so. “Do you think we should be more proactive about searching for Rex?” she asked. “Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe he needs us, Virgil.”

“That’s just it. The more waves we make, the easier we’ll be to find, and there’re children involved.” He cursed again. “We can’t even be good friends to him.”

“Have you tried calling his family? From a pay phone?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“His father and brothers won’t talk to me. And his mother is dead. Should I go through the rest of his family tree?”

He wasn’t being sarcastic; he was asking a serious question. But contacting any more of Rex’s relations would be a waste of time. The rift with his family had driven Rex into gang life to begin with. “No.”

“So what else?”

“I guess…nothing,” she said. And then she understood. Being helpless was the worst possible experience for a man like Virgil, who tried to take charge of—and fix—every situation. “We just have to wait. And hope for the best.”

“You asked me if I missed Mom.”

He surprised her with the sudden change of subject, and then didn’t give her any time to respond.

“The answer to that question is yes. I’ve missed her every day of my life since she stabbed me in the back. I wish I could hate her. Sometimes I do. But more than anything, I wonder what was wrong with me that she couldn’t love me the way I love my son,” he said, and hung up.

Vivian rubbed her face. She shouldn’t have asked him about Ellen.

“Damn it…” Where could she turn? She had no idea what she could do to help Rex. She hated the thought that her brother was hurting as badly as she was. And she could no longer justify canceling her evening with Myles.

Jake’s voice out in the yard brought her around to face the door. He was home. She could see him charging toward the house and was glad that Vera was behind him, hobbling up to say hello instead of just dropping him off.

“Mom?” Jake flung the door wide only to find her standing about three feet away from him. “Oh, there you are. We had so much fun!”

She wanted to hug him. To hold him close and never let go. But he was wet and didn’t smell all that pleasant. And these days he wouldn’t tolerate more than a short squeeze. “Did you catch anything?”

Three rainbow trout! They’re in the cooler. But I don’t know how to gut them and neither does Nana. Do you think Sheriff King’s at home?”

Great. Another reason for him to turn to Myles. “Not yet,” she said. “But I can go online and look for a tutorial. Want me to do that?”

“Nah, Sheriff King will know how.” He glanced toward the stairs. “Where’s Mia? I want to show her.”

Vivian propped up her smile with a bit more determination. “In her room.”

He dashed around her, yelling his sister’s name as Nana Vera reached the front door. “He had such a good time,” she said, using the doorjamb to help her get up that final step.

Vivian held out an arm to steady her. “I didn’t realize you knew how to fish.”

She shrugged her bony shoulders. “I don’t. But there was a book on it at the library. I read it last week. Then I went down and bought what it said I’d need. Somehow…it worked. Jake and I both learned something today,” she added with a tired laugh.

Vivian shook her head. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m a better fisherman than I thought. But I don’t have the foggiest idea what to do with those poor creatures now that they’re in my ice chest. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to catch a thing.”

“Beginner’s luck.” Considering the smell, the mess and the revulsion factor, maybe they should let her son seek Myles’s help. “I’m sure we can get Sheriff King to teach the kids.”

Vera adjusted her wide-brimmed hat. She was also wearing long pants and a lightweight yellow jacket to protect her from the sun. “I doubt he’ll have time,” she mused. “Not today.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s probably at the autopsy. And who knows what he’ll have to do afterward.”

“The autopsy’s today?” Myles hadn’t mentioned it when he stopped by earlier. He was so careful to keep the details of the case to himself.

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