hid things from me, Luke, and I don’t want that to happen again. I deserved to know Wade was getting into trouble.”

“And what would you have done?” He arched his brows, his tone maddeningly calm. “Quit law school? Run back home to take care of him? Wade was an adult who made his own choices. You aren’t responsible for his actions.”

“So what? You just don’t tell me at all.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, the pent-up hurt bursting out like a bull from its chute. “You stole the decision from me. You were supposed to be my best friend. How could you not tell me?”

“I was protecting you from something you couldn’t change.”

“But you don’t know that.”

She turned away and went to the window on the far side of the office. Sucked in a breath. Then another. Her hands trembled. Raindrops collected on the glass, running down the pane like tears.

“You robbed me of the chance to put things right before Franny’s murder. Maybe I could have saved Wade—saved us all—from this.”

“Or maybe you would’ve thrown yourself in front a train that was barreling down the tracks no matter what you did.” Luke came up next to her. “I’ve been through this with my own dad. He didn’t want the help either. My mother tried for years to get him straightened out and all she got for her trouble was a mountain of debt from putting him through rehab and a petition for divorce.”

“Wade isn’t your dad.”

His father, Patrick, had been addicted to alcohol and drugs for years. In and out of Luke’s life for most of his childhood.

“Maybe not, but Wade was heading down a path I’d seen before. I’d lived before. Law school was your dream. It was the first thing you reached out for and took hold of all on your own. Maybe I should’ve told you. I just…I didn’t want Wade taking you down with him.”

Her heart cracked at the pain in Luke’s voice. It’d be disingenuous to say his intentions didn’t matter. They did. She’d avoided this conversation because it was easier to believe there was nothing but anger and hurt between them. The fire had destroyed that notion as surely as it had the evidence. In two days, he’d saved her aunt’s life and now her own.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I never meant to hurt you.”

She closed her eyes. The air shifted as Luke turned to go, but she reached out and placed a hand on his arm, holding him in place.

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve given you a chance to explain things before I left. I was angry and upset, but you deserved better.”

His apology didn’t erase the hurt, but she’d underestimated how much it would soothe the raw edges of her wounds. She hoped hers would do the same for him.

“I want to start with a fresh slate,” she continued. “We work the case together and we share whatever we find without holding back. All I want is the truth.”

“Me too.”

His expression was strong and determined. It wouldn't be easy to let the past go, and give Luke her trust again, but she had to. Anger wasn’t getting her anywhere.

“Then we have a deal.” She dropped her hand. “And I suggest we start by talking to Sheriff Franklin. I want to see the case file for Franny Dickerson’s murder investigation.”

Seven

The Medina County Sheriff’s Department was a squat building attached to the courthouse, nestled in the center of town. Luke held the door open for her, and Megan swiped her palms against her jeans before crossing the threshold. A caution sign sat on the tiled entryway. Lemon floor cleaner mixed with the aroma of fresh coffee and the faint scent of old socks.

The receptionist desk was empty. Voices filtered out of Sheriff Franklin’s office. Megan paused. Was someone yelling?

Cindy, the sheriff’s niece and his secretary, came out of the break room. Her eyes widened. “Ah, Luke—”

Sheriff Franklin’s office door flew open, and Chad Dickerson stormed out. Franny’s younger brother, previously slender and hardened from bull-riding, had grown bulky in the intervening years. The oversized belt buckle holding up his Wrangler’s fought with his gut. The scent of sour whiskey preceded him across the room, and a several-day-old beard covered the bottom half of his face. A scar—probably caused from being on the losing end of a tussle with a bull—started at his hairline and marched down the left side of his face.

Chad spotted her and his eyes narrowed into slits. Megan’s heart skipped a beat.

“You,” he bellowed, charging toward her. “It’s your fault I’ve been dragged down here.”

“Don’t,” Luke warned, stepping into his path, his tone low and authoritative. “Not one more step.”

“Screw you, Tatum. First her brother kills my sister, and now she’s accusing me of somethin’ I didn’t do.”

Luke angled his body, protecting her. The stance brought back memories of the first time she’d met him, defending a woman against her abusive husband. The fight had earned him the scar along his lip and a place in her heart.

“Megan didn’t accuse you of anything.”

“I’m not gonna let you run my name through the mud, after everything else,” Chad continued, as if Luke hadn’t spoken. “No one in this town wants you here. If you and June were attacked, maybe it was a message.”

“Chad,” Sheriff Franklin’s voice boomed across the room. “I’ll handle this.”

“You’d better.” Chad fixed his gaze on Luke. “Tatum, it ain’t good for your job to be hanging around with the family of a murderer. Disloyalty doesn’t sit well.”

Luke parted his jacket so the ranger badge flashed. “Are you threatening me?”

“No one is threatening anyone.” The chief deputy, Dan Carter, pushed past the sheriff and grabbed Chad by the arm. “Come on. Let’s talk in the parking lot.”

Chad pulled away. He ambled toward the door, stopping long enough to cast a glance in Megan’s direction. The hostility glittering in his dark eyes made her blood run cold.

“See you around, Megs.”

The door slammed behind him like

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