REID GLANCED IN the rearview mirror. Annoyingly enough, his father hung well back while still keeping a visual. Evidently he’d learned something from the two tickets he’d received so far. Even farther back, Reid spotted an unmarked police car. Now that Dean knew he was a target, he’d have seen the car, too.
Too bad. Feeling an urgent need to get away, Reid tried to figure out how to open some distance between the vehicles. Or would that be a mistake? Might his father pretend to lose him, then manage to tail him out to Bear Creek?
The traffic light ahead had been green for a long time. Reid saw his chance. Dad wouldn’t dare run a red light, knowing he was being watched. Too many tickets in too short a time could be made to have consequences beyond fines. Reid could ask Chief Raynor to call his counterpart in Spokane and say, One of your officers is making a nuisance of himself in my town. I don’t know what hair he has up his butt, but the way he’s driving, he’s a danger to the citizens of Angel Butte, and I want him gone.
Reid eased his foot off the accelerator, biding his time. Yes. The light turned yellow. He sped up just enough to glide through the intersection right as the light turned red. His father, hovering back with another cop behind him, had no choice but to brake. Reid stepped on it, staying inside the speed limit, but barely. His first thought had been to take evasive maneuvers, but he went with his instincts and continued driving straight, opening as much distance as possible, but not making any obvious effort to lose his tail.
In the mirror, he saw the Denali leap forward with the green light, while the unmarked took a right and disappeared. Shit. Detective Rogers, who’d been on him today, had probably taken a call. Strange, though, because Reid hadn’t heard anything over the police radio.
His father’s big black SUV closed fast. He’d seen that he had lost his pursuer and was taking advantage of the freedom. Reid was going thirty-five miles an hour; his father had to be pushing it at fifty or more.
And then, suddenly, flashing lights were there as a marked squad car burst out of a cross street. Chance? Or had Rogers taken the initiative to set up a trap?
Strike three.
Grinning, Reid imagined his father’s fury as he slowed and pulled over—and watched his son vanish into the distance. Reid turned, then turned again, finally working his way back toward Arrow Lake, the city-operated airport and the route that took him out to the old resort.
Maybe this was stupid, but he kept thinking about what Anna had said last night.
Actually, he’d done nothing but think about Anna. When he wasn’t remembering what she’d said, he relived the experience of making love with her. As a result, he’d been half-aroused all day.
Now he had to force his mind back to his plan.
Once she’d laid it out, he could understand all too well what Caleb must be thinking and feeling. Reid had always thought of his own, seemingly irrational resentment of the Hales in the early days as generalized anger. The minute Anna started talking about Caleb feeling like a victim, Reid had identified. Instantly, powerfully.
Yes. Reid, too, had hated the knowledge that someone else had had to rescue him because he was too helpless to get himself out of trouble. In fact, he’d loathed the feeling of helplessness so much, he’d determined on both conscious and unconscious levels that he’d never let himself need anyone as much.
Listening to Anna, he’d also understood immediately how crucial a feeling of reciprocity was. In his case, that had never been a possibility. The Hales hadn’t needed him. They had come to care about him, but he was only one of many kids they took in. Succeeding with him would give them a feeling of validation, but Reid personally—the sullen teenage boy he’d been—had been more in the nature of a job to them than anything.
For all that he couldn’t get it out of his head, Reid didn’t like remembering last night’s scene. He hadn’t yet let himself come to terms with what it meant that he’d humbled himself for Anna. Or the fact that the concept of reciprocity wasn’t only an issue between him and his brother. He knew he’d have to confront that truth eventually, but...one thing at a time.
Anna could wait. She’d said she would give him another chance. He thought she’d meant it.
Today, he needed to focus on Caleb. Reid felt an urgency to see his brother he didn’t entirely understand. But now he had his chance and he was taking it.
No other traffic was visible when Reid turned off the road. Winter had deepened the potholes in the quarter-mile-long, overgrown driveway that ended in front of the old lodge. As usual, he saw a boy start to melt out of sight behind one of the derelict pickup trucks, then reappear when he recognized Reid behind the wheel. Roger’s truck was missing, as, presumably, was Roger.
Reid nodded a hello to the kid—Palmer, he thought—as he got out, then took the porch steps two at a time. His gaze fell on the deep scar in the door left by the knife blade. Of the tricks so far, that one made him the most uneasy. He was frustrated, of course, because it had happened right under his nose. More than that, though, it had made plain the reality they weren’t dealing just with someone who enjoyed setting fires, bad as that was. No, they were being taunted by someone who was saying, I can get to you anytime, any way I want. Are you scared yet?
Whoever he was, he could do much, much worse than he had so far. In fact, an escalation was inevitable. Somebody could die next time.
Reid grimaced. That fear might explain his intense need to see Caleb. To try to make things better between them.
He rapped his knuckles on the heavy door, then opened it without waiting for an answer. This being midday, half a dozen boys sat at various places along the long, cafeteria-style tables, while two others were planted in front of desktop computers. Paula had been leaning over Truong’s shoulder pointing something out in a book open in front of him, but she straightened and smiled.
“Reid! Good to see you.”
Caleb was one of the boys at the table with an open book and papers strewn about. His expression was first startled then wary.
“Paula.” Reid nodded again as he cut between tables. “Boys.” He grimaced at the sight of what Truong was studying. “Geometry,” he said, feeling sympathy.
“Who ever uses this shit?” the kid asked plaintively.
Paula leveled a schoolmarm look at Reid, who made a valiant effort.
“Uh...engineers. Actually,” he admitted, “even cops do sometimes.”
“Cops?” Truong echoed in disbelief. Everyone stared at him.
Talking about a sharpshooter’s calculations probably wasn’t appropriate. Fortunately, there were other examples. “Yeah, you know when a major car accident happens? To understand how it occurred and which driver bears what degree of fault, we have to study the scene. We draw lines on the pavement. Take measurements. Determine things like speed and trajectory.”
He’d helped do that, and it was a grisly job when there’d been fatalities. Nothing like trying to determine how fast a drunk driver was going when she crossed the highway median and struck another vehicle, killing a child. He didn’t let any of that show on his face.
“Mind if I borrow Caleb for a few minutes?” he asked Paula.
“Sure, no problem. Caleb, did you finish the worksheet?”
He shrugged. “Except for number fourteen.”
“I don’t get it, either,” another boy said. A third chimed in.
Paula smiled. “Then we’ll wait and talk about it when Caleb gets back.”
Caleb swung his leg over the bench and slouched his way to Reid, who led him through the kitchen to the back door.
“Let’s walk along the creek,” he said.
His brother grunted and reached for a down vest hanging in the mudroom that formed the back exit from the kitchen.
More snow lay on the ground at the lodge than in town, and last night it had frozen again. Right now, the sun felt almost warm, which meant slush. Reid wore boots, though, and saw that Caleb did, as well. Neither had on gloves. Reid shoved his hands into the pockets of his parka. For a few minutes, the squelch of their footsteps was the only sound.
“Dad’s still in town,” he said finally. “He’s doing his damnedest to follow me everywhere I go.”
Alarm flared on his brother’s face. “Then why’d you come out here?”
“I shook him.” He smiled grimly and explained his strategy.
“He’s gotten three tickets?” Caleb was clearly savoring the idea. “That’s awesome!”
Reid let himself grin. “I thought so. I’m hoping he’ll have had enough soon and go home.”
“If he’s following you, that means he still doesn’t know where I am.”
“Likely,” Reid agreed, “but it’s also conceivable he’s playing us. Setting up his innocence.”
“Is that what you think?”
They passed the last cabin. From here, Reid could see a rooftop across the creek and downstream a hundred yards or so. Otherwise, the landscape was pristine, painted in white and the deep green of pine boughs and the clear gray of running water. He took a breath of the cold, clear air and felt a primitive kind of satisfaction. He’d missed the Northwest.
“No.” He paused to look out at the stream. “I don’t. Tell me if you disagree, but I don’t see him having any patience or subtlety. To the contrary, one of his problems is having lousy impulse control. I could never figure out why it hadn’t gotten him in trouble on the job.”
“It has.” Caleb kicked a rock and they both watched as it rolled with a small splash into the water. “He’s been suspended twice in the last, I don’t know, couple of years. The union goes to bat for him, but he was demoted not that long ago.”
“And took it out on you.” Reid’s jaw set.
Those still-too-thin shoulders jerked.
“I want you to know that no matter what, I won’t let that son of a bitch take you back.” This was the first and maybe most important thing he knew he must say. “I thought you’d be better off here with the Hales and other boys your age than you would be with me, but if need be, I won’t hesitate to go for custody.”
Caleb kept his head down and didn’t respond.
Reid cleared his throat. “I’m not good with emotion. But there’s something else I want you to know.” He waited until his brother lifted his head to look at him. “It’s lonely not having family. I don’t usually let myself think about it, but since I found out about you—” It was hard not to squirm like an awkward kid. Man, this was hard to do. Lying in bed last night, he’d rehearsed and revised this speech a dozen times. To his own ears, he sounded falsely hearty, but he was doing the best he could. “I moved to Angel Butte to be near you because I hoped we’d be family. You may not want that. If not, you don’t owe me anything.” That part was important to get out. “But think about it. Unless your mom comes back in the picture, we’re pretty much all each other has.”
Caleb stared for a long time. He seemed...stunned. Who could blame him? Reid thought. Unless he’d been a lot luckier than Reid, he wouldn’t be any better at talking about how he felt.
“You’re saying this because you think you’ll soften me up so I’ll tell you stuff I wouldn’t otherwise,” he said finally with acute suspicion.
That stung a little, but Reid kept his stance relaxed and shook his head. “No. I owe the Hales. Now that I live nearby, for them and for the other boys, I’d be trying to find out who’s doing this no matter what. But I’m here because of you, and my biggest priority is keeping you safe.” Holding that long, disbelieving stare took an effort of will, but Reid managed it despite the discomfort.
Anna had damn well better not have misled him.
But suddenly Caleb ducked his head again. “Okay,” he mumbled.
“You want to keep walking?”
“I guess.”
“I’ve been seeing this woman,” Reid heard himself say, before the jolt of shock hit. This wasn’t anything he’d rehearsed. He had no idea if talking about Anna to Caleb was a good idea or a really, really bad one.
Caleb snuck a look at him. “You ever been...like, married or anything?”
“No.” God, no, he thought, but didn’t say. That wasn’t what he wanted for his brother—to grow up believing himself incapable of commitment and love. “I never thought I’d want to get that close to someone,” he said, speaking slowly.
Hearing the past tense jarred him. The fact he’d used it meant something.
Caleb looked as astonished as he felt. “But she—this woman—is making you think about it?”
“I...don’t know.” A sharp pain crept up his neck toward his skull. Hell. “Anna has shaken some of my assumptions, though.”
Caleb’s nod was awkward.
They walked in silence for a good five minutes, until they emerged into a clearing surrounding a house. No one appeared to be home, but in concert they turned and started back.
“There’s one guy who kind of freaks me out,” Caleb said suddenly. “He’s... I think he goes outside at night sometimes.”
Careful not to jump on that, Reid nodded. “Is this the one who lives in the lodge, too?”
“TJ. He’s really tense. Mad all the time. He doesn’t like me and I don’t like him.”
“Do any of the boys talk about their parents?”
“Not really. I mean, you see stuff.” Caleb was quiet for a minute. “I don’t like Damon, either, but he’s got some majorly horrible scars on his back. Someone beat him bad.”
A kid. Reid’s hands balled into fists in his pockets. “A few years ago, I was one of the investigators looking into a religious sect. Anybody who ‘sinned’ was whipped in front of the whole congregation. A teenage girl who sneaked away and had sex with her boyfriend was stoned to death.”
Caleb whispered an obscenity.
“Caleb.” Reid hesitated. “I’m going to ask to see the files on all the boys here.” This time, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. “I need their last names so that I can find out what’s in their pasts.”
“You mean, like, if any of them have set fires before.”
“Right. Certain kinds of abuse make someone more likely to act out in specific ways, too. I’m telling you this in confidence. Asking you to keep it to yourself.”
“Oh, yeah,” the teenager scoffed. “Because telling everyone my brother is investigating them would make me most likely to be elected prom king.”
Reid had to laugh. “No, it probably wouldn’t make you everyone’s best friend.”
Caleb didn’t look at him. “Are you going to start with TJ?”
“I will. The other thing I’m going to do is try to locate their parents or guardians. Are they where they should be? Or could one of them have found him?”
Caleb stopped dead. “But how? I mean, Dad found you. But if you hadn’t come to Angel Butte...”
“I’ve been thinking about that. How many of these guys have stayed in touch with someone from home? Brother, sister, mom, girlfriend? Do any of them sneak out to meet someone?”
Caleb started walking again. Out of the corner of his eye, Reid watched him struggle with his conscience.
“Maybe,” he said at last. “But I think a couple of the guys might have met girls in town. You know? There isn’t exactly a rule against it, even though Paula and Roger don’t like it.”
Reid nodded. “I remember.” His second year here, he had gotten something going with a girl he’d thought was hot. For a couple of months, she sneaked out, he sneaked out, and he’d had sex for the first time. Inevitably, she got tired of the sneaking thing and found someone else. His heart hadn’t been broken, but he’d really enjoyed the sex. “That’s not what we’re looking for,” he said. “It’s someone from the past who could have let the wrong thing slip.”
His brother nodded his understanding.
“Do you think TJ is meeting someone?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard voices or anything like that.”
“All right. Don’t try to follow him. He could be dangerous.”
Damn. When Caleb didn’t say anything, Reid began to wish he hadn’t asked that last question. Trailing TJ was exactly the kind of thing he’d have done in Caleb’s place.
The lodge was in sight again. Reid clapped his brother on the back. “Time for you to get back and figure out problem fourteen.”
“Math sucks.”
“It wasn’t my strong suit,” Reid admitted. “Until calculus. For some reason, I liked calculus.”
Caleb gave him an incredulous look.
Roger had returned and was putting away groceries when Reid and Caleb came in the back door. His gaze moved over the two of them, and his eyes warmed.
Reid squeezed his brother’s shoulder even though such a simple act of intimacy felt uncomfortable to him, then watched him head back to the main room. Only when he knew he and Roger were alone did he say, “Can we talk?”
* * *
ANNA WASN’T SURPRISED when she didn’t hear from Reid over the weekend. Their agreement to go skiing one more time had been forgotten, maybe just as well since the warming trend was turning the snow to mush. Despite the fact he’d asked for another chance—or because he’d been driven to ask for that chance—she had expected him to retreat. Truthfully, she wouldn’t have been shocked if he never called again.
He was good at covering. Way better than the kids she dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but she still recognized more of his subterranean fears and motivations than he liked. They both knew that was partly what attracted him to her, but also what made him leery of feeling anything for her.
Had he seen how much they shared? That she had the same fears, that like him she was often driven by her past in illogical but emotionally rooted ways?
Probably. Anna admitted somewhat ruefully to herself she wasn’t nearly as good at faking it as he was.
Monday morning she was on her way to visit foster homes in Klamath County when her phone rang. Seeing his number, she chose to pull over rather than put the phone on speaker.
“Reid,” she said cautiously.
“Hey. Any chance of having lunch? If not today, tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow would be better.” She told him where she was.
“Okay. I’m sorry we didn’t make it out skiing.”
“No, that’s okay. It’s probably too late in the year anyway.”
“I see the girl’s funeral is scheduled for Saturday. I was thinking I’d come,” he said.
Her heart skipped. Was he offering because he thought she might need him? “I was hoping there’d be a police presence,” she said, trying for calm.
“I think there will be. Having a local kid get killed hits everyone hard.”
“Yes.” Damn it, her eyes stung. “Thank you. I’d...like it if you were there.”
“Then I will be.”
They set a time for lunch tomorrow and he was gone. Anna sat for a minute, dealing with the heart-pounding effect of his promise before she could put her signal on and merge back into the traffic on the highway.
To her astonishment, that was the beginning of an amazing week with him. They had lunch twice and planned dinner for Friday night.
At Tuesday’s lunch, he told her about the speeding ticket given to his father on top of the two for tailgating, and that Dean had taken off afterward, not to be seen again. Reid wasn’t sure yet whether the man had gone home or only retreated to lick his wounds. She’d had to laugh at his grin when he had said that.
Thursday, she asked if he’d learned any more, and Reid said, “Yeah, I talked to one of Dad’s cronies at the Spokane P.D. He’s definitely home, back to work.”
“Poorer, too,” she said cheerfully.
He’d laughed again. “Yep. Close to seven hundred bucks poorer in traffic fines alone.”
“Do you think...well, that he’s given up?”
The pleasure left his face. “I doubt it,” he said shortly. There was something grim in his voice that made her wonder what he feared. Was his father angry enough to want to hurt his own son? Anna couldn’t help remembering when she’d asked Reid if Dean could be a threat to her, and the way he’d hesitated, then said, “Not to you.” Had there been an emphasis on that last word that implied he thought his father might...what? Attack him? That seemed crazy, but his expression didn’t invite more questions.
Friday night, she cooked dinner for him. Neither of them had their minds on food. Leaving dirty dishes on the table, they barely made it upstairs before shedding their clothes and making love.
Reid let her explore his body, too, this time. She loved the contours of muscles laid over bone and reveled in the responses her stroking hands evoked. Every jerk he made, every groan and sucked-in breath, heightened her own arousal. In the end, he still took control and she knew he’d held back, but she was satisfied they were making progress. Satisfied in every other way, too, but then she had been the first time, however depressed she’d been to feel essentially alone in the storm of passion.
Reid didn’t say much as they cuddled afterward, or when he got up, dressed and kissed her good-night, either. Anna had secretly hoped he would want to stay the night, but she knew she should have expected that was too big a commitment for him. His slightly brooding air as he departed left her wondering if he was unhappy about having surrendered as much of himself to her as he had.
It also made her wonder if he wouldn’t make an excuse tomorrow not to show up at the funeral. Anna grimaced at the thought. She could hardly blame him if he did. She was dreading the darn thing. And, for him, it would be a commitment of another kind: appearing at her side in public and in a big way. People would have to know he was there only for her sake.
Once she thought of it that way...Anna resigned herself to going alone.
* * *
GOD, HE HATED FUNERALS. His mother’s had been the start. Later, Reid had attended more than his share of them, first as a young officer who felt obligated to make an appearance after he’d scraped somebody off the pavement, then later when he made detective as part of investigations. Who showed up at a funeral could be telling, as could how everyone behaved once they were there.
This funeral was held in the New Hope Assembly of God, one of the largest churches in Angel Butte. Reid arrived before Anna.
As she’d warned him she might, she showed up in company with the foster parents, familiar to him from interviews on local television news. One look at their faces told him they were taking this as hard as any biological parents would. Parents wanted to believe it was possible to protect their children. Finding out, so harshly, that you couldn’t...
Reid shook his head. Sometimes he wondered if his father would have grieved if he’d been killed in a car accident. Could a willingness to hurt your kid exist right along with the need to protect? Reid couldn’t imagine.
Anna saw him and steered the older couple his way. The black suit she wore was formfitting enough to avoid being dowdy, especially with the addition of black high heels. Although he doubted that was her intention, black was a good color on her, with her honey-blond hair, pale skin and misty-gray eyes. He was disturbed at how aware he was of her lithe body inside that sedate suit.
At least he could be confident his expression didn’t give away his thoughts. “Anna,” he said and kissed her cheek, seeing her startled glance and flush of color. “Mr. Lund. Mrs. Lund.” He shook hands with each in turn. “I’m Captain Reid Sawyer, Angel Butte P.D. You have my sympathy.”
The woman’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “Thank you.”
Seeing that they were the focus of several television cameras, Reid moved to block the grieving couple from the cameras’ eyes. Mrs. Lund’s sister appeared and the two women hugged, then he got them all moving into the church.
Letting the others go ahead, Anna took his arm and leaned in so that no one else could hear her. “Tell me your father hasn’t reappeared.”
He was able to shake his head. “Nope.”
“Thank goodness.”
He smiled at her vehemence, not letting her see the worry he was holding on to. Yes, Bob Sarringer had confirmed his buddy Dean was back at work. He’d even gone quiet for a minute, then said, “He was in a rage when I saw him. He said things—” There was another pause. Then, “Damn, I’m sorry, Reid.”
Reid had felt a burst of rage hard to quell. Sarringer was sorry now? He managed an insincere “Thank you” and learned that Dean normally had weekends off.
Which meant there was nothing to stop him from having clocked out yesterday then driving into the night to pull another ugly trick in Angel Butte. Just because Reid hadn’t seen him yet today didn’t mean he wasn’t here in town again.
Reid had put out the word to patrol and plainclothes officers alike to watch for his father. He had felt less reticence this time. He’d been...touched, he guessed was the right word, by the enthusiasm with which his officers had originally taken on a job that, realistically, was a waste of police resources, not to mention the skill level of detectives. They’d made plain that while he might be new on the job, he was one of them. The attitude had played a part in the shift he’d felt just this week toward the move to Angel Butte and whether he saw a future here.
When he and Anna entered the church, he forced thoughts of his son of a bitch of a father and even the future from his mind.
Reid shortly found himself anchoring one side of the front pew, with Mr. Lund on the other and the three women between them.
Large as it was, the church filled up fast. A shiny pink casket sat front and center, almost buried in flower arrangements. The scent of the flowers was overpowering. Reid was grateful the lid was closed.
The service opened a floodgate of grief. A dozen members of the congregation spoke about Corinna Terrill. A church choir sang. The pastor talked about the open gates of heaven and about how she’d be there waiting for her loved ones.
By long practice, Reid had armored himself well. His armor had a fissure today, though: Anna. Most of the emotion here flowed over and around him, but he felt Anna’s. She never broke into sobs; instead, she comforted the foster mother, who wept from beginning to end. But every so often Anna had to swipe at her own cheeks. Mascara he’d hardly been aware she wore flowed with the tears. Reid, who had come prepared, pressed tissues into her hand. She gave him an astonished look, then blotted the tears. Seeing the dark streaks that remained caused an unfamiliar ache in his chest. He waited until the service ended to surreptitiously spit on another tissue, hoping she didn’t notice, and turn her face up to his to gently wipe it clean.
Anna’s tremulous smile made the ache grow until it was all he could do not to rub at his breastbone in an effort to relieve it. She tipped her head against his shoulder, the merest touch, but more than enough thanks, then stood when the pastor came to comfort the grieving parents.
Reid stepped back, waiting until Anna was ready to go. He’d seen a number of police officers, city and county, all wearing uniforms, sitting near the back. His department was well represented without him. In fact, he’d seen surprise when his presence was noted. No wonder, when he was so new on the job and hadn’t been involved in any way with the investigation into the cause of the accident. And yet here he was, sitting beside the grieving family.
All he knew was that Anna had wanted him here, and that even as she spoke to other people, her head turned frequently, as if she needed to know he was still there. Reid felt no impatience. None of his usual discomfort at the idea of being needed by another human being.
Caleb, and now Anna. Her inclusion on a short list that was new to him might scare the shit out of him later, but not yet.
Finally, she murmured to the Lunds, then came to him. “Shall we go?”
He searched her face and found, not peace, but an easing of pain. He crooked his elbow, waited until she laid her hand on it, and walked her down the very long aisle and out of the church.
Outside, she turned to him. “You don’t need to go to the reception with me if you’d rather not. I mean, you didn’t know Corinna.”
“But I know you.”
“Oh, damn it,” she mumbled, then clapped a hand over her mouth before casting a wild look around. “Did anyone hear me?” she whispered.
He chuckled, low and quiet. “I don’t think so. Could have been worse. At least you didn’t take the name of the Lord in vain.”
“You’re going to make me cry again.”
“The last thing I want to do.” He laid his free hand over hers, still resting on his arm. “Would you rather I not come, Anna?”
She stared up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. “I’m capable of doing something like this on my own.”
This determination to do something that would normally repel him had come out of nowhere. All he knew was she’d given him more than she’d guessed, and he wanted to give back.
“Today, you don’t have to,” he said.
She bit her lip, nodded and sniffed. “Thank you.”
As they walked across the parking lot to the enormous hall, where the church housed a preschool as well as meetings and celebrations, he had the passing thought there wasn’t anywhere else he would want to be.