“I’d leave if Kurt yelled at me,” said Henry, thinking of the tough older deputy.
Bruce laughed. “Me too. He’s old enough to be my grandfather, but I wouldn’t mess with him. Anyway, my point is that someone wanted to snoop.”
“Wendy really wanted to know if we had a suspect. Asked twice.”
“Like she was worried for Luke?”
“Or he sent her to see which direction the investigation was heading.”
The two men were silent for a long moment.
“Nah,” Bruce said. “Luke can’t be involved. The dude can barely rent out a kayak without screwing up something. There’s no way he killed and buried three bodies with no one knowing. But I’ll tell Tessa. Maybe she needs to have a talk with Luke.”
Julie knocked and opened the door. “The strep test is negative.”
“Let her know, and tell her we’ll call if the culture comes back positive.” Henry looked at Bruce. “Which it won’t.” Julie nodded and vanished.
“I feel like I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” Henry said. “We can’t know what gossip is out there.”
“Trust me,” said Bruce. “I’d be hearing right and left that there were multiple graves if the word was out. I’ve had several questions about the first grave, but no one has asked if there are more. I think it was worth mentioning to me. Always better to say something than ignore that gut feeling.”
“I agree,” said Henry. He walked Bruce out front. There was no sign of Wendy Ruell. “Wendy leave already?” he asked Julie.
“Yep. As soon as I told her the results, she was out of here.”
Henry exchanged a glance with Bruce, who shrugged.
The deputy gave Julie a quick kiss. “My mom will be in her new place by evening.”
“Thank you,” said Julie. “You know I love your mother, but . . .”
“Of course you do. Everybody loves her.” Bruce grinned. “I understand.”
Henry was glad he and Cate had their own space. He loved Jane, but if he and Cate and her grandmother had to live in a place as small as Bruce’s, he’d be searching for a solution too.
Bruce winked at Julie as he left.
Henry liked the young couple. Even though they’d been together over a year, they were still starry eyed when they saw each other.
I’m pretty sure I look like that around Cate.
“I’ve got two patients waiting for you in exam rooms,” Julie said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Henry sighed, wishing the day were over. “On it.”
7
The FBI had arranged for a small plane from Widow’s Island to Aberdeen, Washington. From there it had been a quick car ride to the prison. During the hour-long flight, Cate had enjoyed the bird’s-eye view of the snowy Olympic Mountains and the deep greens of its forests.
There’d been a small knot in the pit of her stomach from the moment the plane had taken off, and now as she waited to enter the prison, it felt as though she’d stepped off a boat. The subtle rocking made her breathe deep to stay focused.
Why did I agree to this?
She rubbed a damp palm against the hip of her pantsuit. When she’d put it on this morning, it’d felt foreign. She’d straightened her long black hair and parted it directly in the center. It was more severe than her usual casual waves and side part. After eyeing the severe hairstyle, she’d added a dark-red lipstick, and an unfamiliar woman had been reflected in the mirror.
The hairstyle was a piece of armor. Like the pantsuit.
Am I nervous?
A little.
She and Mike had discussed using Lamb’s old interest in her to their advantage. Jeff Lamb might no longer be attracted to her, but it was worth a try.
Henry had done a double take when he’d first seen her. Surprise had lit his eyes—and then amusement. “You look great, Cate. Sort of a sexy-librarian vibe going on. Got any reading glasses?”
He’d laughed at her withering look. “Yep. Definitely librarian.”
As they walked toward the prison, Henry gave her hand a squeeze and promptly dropped it. She’d told him not to show any affection inside the prison. Their private life needed to remain private. Especially in front of Lamb.
They met Mike at the prison. She followed him in and watched as he checked his weapon. She started to reach for the weapon she’d once carried at her side and had a flash of panic at its missing weight. When she’d first returned to Widow’s, she’d had the same reaction a number of times. But now it’d been months since she’d reached for it.
The three of them were led to a small interview room. Two chairs on one side of a table and a single chair on the other. “Need another chair?” asked the guard.
“I’ll stand,” said Henry.
They’d discussed strategy that morning. Henry was to stay silent, and Mike wanted him to stand against a wall. “Just look focused. Don’t let your gaze stray from Lamb. I want him to feel that third set of eyes studying him. Don’t let anything he says get to you.” Mike had paused. “And especially don’t let anything he says to Cate get to you. Be ready for him to be an asshole to her.”
Henry’s lips had quirked. “Got it. I’m looking forward to the show.”
In the room, Cate wrinkled her nose. It smelled like a locker room. Old sweat and industrial cleaning agents. She took a seat and waited, ignoring that her heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest.
I’ve done this dozens of times. No big deal.
Mike sat beside her, his metal chair scraping the tile floor. “How do you think Lamb will be?” he asked Cate in a low voice.
“Curious. Cocky. His usual asshole self. Just eight years older.”
“Agreed.”
A guard opened the door and brought Lamb in.
He looks fifteen years older, not eight.
Lamb had been a tall muscular man. He still was tall, but he’d thinned down. He looked more wiry than muscular. No excess
