Troy could still picture Evangeline’s face a half hour later as he tried to work his way through a response to Oren Margulies. The US marshal had been kind enough to offer to answer any additional questions Troy might have and Troy wanted to see if the guy had any insight or experience that might help them find Baldwin Bowe.
Even as he typed, then deleted, then typed some more, Troy couldn’t find his focus.
All he could see was Evangeline’s face when she turned away from him in the parking lot and got into her car.
He’d hurt her. That much was evident. More than evident, he admitted to himself, because he knew it was purposeful. And much as it pained him to do it, he needed to begin making the break with her.
The discovery of the gaslighting had broken the case open and now that they had a phone number they were running down, he and Brett would go deal with the restaurant owner and get the entire situation resolved. This nightmare she’d been living in would all be over.
Just like him and Evangeline.
It was the right thing to do. More than right, he considered as he typed another paragraph to Margulies. The Davison and Bowe cases needed his full attention.
His full focus.
So why did he feel so miserable?
“Ellie got us a name and an address.” Brett’s voice flowed into the office a few beats before he walked in. “Sal Petrillo. Guy owns That’s Amore, an Italian restaurant downtown.”
Troy knew the place. He’d been there on a few dates and had done takeout a time or two. “I know it. It’s been there a few years. Guy opened it after moving down from Detroit, best I remember.”
“Your intel matches Ellie’s. She also said she’s heard rumors the reason Petrillo moved down from Detroit was that he had some debts up there he never really paid off.”
Troy hit Send on his email. “Oh, he does?”
“Since I’ve learned in the very short time I’ve been here that Ellie is always right, who am I to argue?”
“You learn fast, Shea.”
“I like to think so.”
Troy texted Evangeline to see if she knew anything about the restaurant or had any run-ins with its owner. As he hit Send, a small shot of remorse filled him at the simplicity of the text and the way he’d shot out an order to text back, but he had to ignore it. He needed an answer and he wasn’t composing damn love notes.
In a matter of minutes they’d arrived at the restaurant and Troy looked around as he got out of the car, pushing the text to the back of his mind.
“It’s not that far from Evangeline’s alley.”
“No, it’s not.” Brett pointed in the direction of the row of buildings that spread before them. “I’d say one major block over, give or take a few storefronts.”
“Right you are.”
Troy considered it as they walked up to That’s Amore. A neon Open sign was lit over the door and they walked into the scents of tomato sauce and baking pizza. Although this place didn’t back up to the alleyway where Evangeline saw the purported shooting, it would be easy enough to squeeze through a few buildings to come out to this one.
Again, he filed it away as a hostess greeted them. “Can I help you? The dining room’s closed until dinner but we can still do take-out orders.”
“I’m actually looking for someone.” Troy shared the number that had been included on Ella’s note. “I have a number and I understand it’s associated with this restaurant.”
For the first time the woman looked uneasy and Troy pulled out his badge, as did Brett. “We need to know if you recognize it.”
It had been a deliberate gamble, but they’d not called the number in advance, instead hoping to catch the owner here. The hostess’s response confirmed it was the right one.
“Yeah, that’s Sal’s number. He’s the owner. He’s in the back. I’ll just go get him.”
“Clumsy move to use his phone and to get dumb kids to make calls for him,” Brett observed as he moved around the small waiting area. There were a few framed newspaper articles on the walls, the sort local restaurants put up to affirm they were part of the community. Troy scanned them for any insight into the mysterious Sal and it was only as his gaze alighted on the last one that he recognized the image.
From the sketch his sister had done.
He was about to call Brett over when the hostess walked back out from the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, Detectives, but Sal left, apparently. Right after the lunch rush wrapped. Or what passes for it these days.”
“Do you know where he went?” Troy asked, that same uncomfortable feeling that had ridden him in his office flaring high like a bonfire.
The woman shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Troy grabbed his phone from his belt to check. No answering text from Evangeline filled up the screen. He turned to Brett, his gut screaming that they already knew the location of the elusive Sal. “Let’s go.”
Evangeline struggled against the bonds at her wrist but didn’t dare move too fast. The big, beefy man who’d been at the heart of all that had happened to her was surprisingly quick and had done an even quicker job jamming her into a kitchen chair.
One that he’d already rigged with a bomb underneath.
One he’d told her about as he slammed her into place, tying her hands behind her.
Thoughts raced around in her mind as she desperately tried to come up with a plan. She had no experience with bombs but based on the gingerly way he’d maneuvered around her once he had it set, she had to assume the situation was sensitive.
And highly deadly.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You’ve ruined my life.”
“Me? I don’t even know you.”
It was the wrong thing to say and it had his ire flaring, his face turning a mottled shade of red. “You’ve ruined my business. It’s your fault that piece of scum is out on the streets. No one’s willing to go out anymore. I was getting by on a shoestring as it is. And now they’ve found me.”
“Who found you?”
He turned bloodshot eyes, buried deep in his face, on her. “Some guys I owe money to back in Detroit. I guess I didn’t run far enough away. Figured this dump of a town would be plenty of protection. Why would anyone look for me here? I’d get back on my feet, run a good business and make my money back, and then I could pay what I owe.”
While she took serious offense at hearing her home characterized that way, antagonizing him wasn’t going to help the situation. “I can assure you, I’m as upset as you about the murders. I was put on leave because of the Len Davison case and I’m heartsick to know he’s killed more people.”
“Keep your sob story to yourself. My business is down fifty percent. No one can pay off a loan when they can barely pay the rent. And that’s damn hard when no one wants romantic dinners when a killer is on the loose. All the publicity your case drummed up for the loser put me smack in the crosshairs of my loan sharks. One of ’em saw me on TV, standing in front of my restaurant waving away those damned protestors.”
Evangeline had no idea how the man had twisted the story around to suit himself, but it was obvious he had.
Even more obvious: Whatever story he’d told himself had become his truth.
Her legal case with Len Davison, terrible as it was, had no bearing on unpaid loans to unsavory people. And if she’d hoped that sharing her sob story would build a kinship between them, she was sorely mistaken. His eyes only turned meaner. “Figured the cops would ignore you and think you were crazy. Make it all so easy for me. Only they’ve gotten closer than ever.”
“You were the one behind it all?”
“Figured I’d have some fun with you for a while. You’ve given me enough sleepless nights. Thought I’d toss some your way.”
Although she had little hope she’d be successful, Evangeline tried once more. “Look. I’m sorry your business is failing but I’m sure we can figure something out. Make a deal or something. I’m part of the county DA’s office and I’m sure we can work with the city to help with some of your mounting financial problems.”
He laughed hard at that, the mirthless sound seeming to rattle around the kitchen. “Just like every other lawyer I’ve ever known. You think you can talk your way out of everything. Only, you can’t.”
As she stared at him, Evangeline knew the truth.
She couldn’t talk her way out of this one. Just like she couldn’t run far enough away from the bomb, even if she did manage to get her hands free.
And no one knew she was here with a madman and a bomb.
No one at all.
“The shades are drawn.” Brett sized up the front of the condo from where he and Troy sat in the cruiser. Brett was in the driver’s seat and Ember rode in the back. And Troy felt like a caged animal in the passenger seat.
“I need to get in there.”
“We need to assess the situation and get backup.”
Backup Troy had already been assured was on its way.
“We’re going to start with a perimeter search with Ember. See if she picks up a scent.”
“You can’t ask me to wait that long.”
“I’m asking and I’m telling.” Brett turned to face him fully. “It’s what partners do. You have to trust me. I know what I’m doing. And I trust my K-9 to tell me what’s going on.”
Brett had already picked up the stained white shirt from the evidence room before heading out to Evangeline’s. He reasoned that the lingering scents on the clothing would be enough for Ember to suss out if Evangeline’s stalker was here.
Troy knew it was the right approach. He had nothing to go on except the lack of response to a text. If they went in guns blazing and she was in danger, they could do more harm. If they sat it out and ignored every clamoring nerve ending that said she was in danger, she could be hurt then, too.
And then he’d never get to tell her he loved her.
That thought lodged in his chest like an immovable boulder, heavy and suffocating.
He loved her.
And he had to get the chance to tell her.
“Ember will be quick and then we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”
Troy nodded and got out of the passenger seat. Brett had parked several spots down from Evangeline’s front door, hiding them from immediate view of anyone peeking through the blinds in her front window.
With careful precision, he folded the shirt so that the stains were on the interior and the areas of the shirt untouched by blood could be sniffed by Ember. Troy feared that even with those precautions the synthetic blood would act as a block to Ember catching a scent, but Brett didn’t seem to harbor the same concerns.
After sensitizing Ember with the shirt, Brett gave his orders and she was off.
She moved around the front, sniffing along the perimeter of the building. It was only as she got to the edge of Evangeline’s condo that she stopped and sat.
Brett heaped praise on her before pulling her away from the front door. “Let’s head around back.”
As his partner suggested it, Troy recognized the benefit. Sal might have lurked around the front of the house but if they could get behind the building they’d likely have a better shot at catching him unawares.
Troy visualized Evangeline’s home and the layout from the back door to kitchen, then on down the hallway to the living room and bedrooms. If they could catch him unaware...
They moved as a team down the front of the condo building, around its side and then to the common area on the opposite side of the condo complex. The summer day ensured there were a few people out but all seemed to be focused on sunning themselves. As Ember continued smelling the perimeter, Troy heard the quiet step behind him.
His sister Grace moved up beside him.
“You shouldn’t be back here.”
“I got the call. I’m here.” Her words along with the mulish expression shut him down before he could get a head of steam going. He still struggled knowing his baby sister was a rookie but he had to trust in her training.
Had to trust in her.
He quickly directed her and her partner to get the sunbathers off the property and away from the back of the complex. Grace nodded, clearly intent on answering his request immediately, before she turned back. “We’re pulling for you and her. All of us. Oh, and there are three more pairs of officers out front waiting for instruction.”
“Thanks.”
With his sister’s words still ringing in his ears, he caught up with Brett. And stilled when he saw the wide-eyed look his partner gave the K-9 as she sat abruptly, her face turned toward Evangeline’s back door.
“Did she find something?”
“Yeah.”
“Evangeline?”
Brett’s expression was perfectly neutral. “Ember found a bomb, Troy. Based on where she’s perched, it’s through that door.”
“The bastard has a bomb? What if she’s wrong?”
“She’s not wrong.” Brett shook his head. “She’s trained for this. That nose is never wrong.”
Troy wanted to rant and rail and say that no system was infallible, but he knew it was useless. Brett trusted Ember and he trusted Brett.
And Ember knew her world through smell. His sister Annalise was a K-9 trainer. Hadn’t she bragged about her dogs through the years? Their ability to scent off the most minute detail?
Brett pulled Ember away from the door, setting them up a few yards down to avoid being heard. “We need to call in the bomb squad. Now.”
“We don’t have time for the bomb squad. He’s got her in there and he’s got no reason to keep her alive.”
Brett considered for a minute before nodding. “I know how to dismantle it and I’ve got gear in the car. I know it’s precious minutes but it’s the best I can give you.”
Troy nodded and was already on the move. He waved Grace over since she was closest, her partner still rounding up sunbathers, and gave her the details as they walked.
“You can’t go in there,” Grace argued.
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Mom will kill me if anything happens to you,” she finally muttered before pulling him in a tight hug. “I’ll radio the rest of the team out front.”
Brett stepped in, handing Ember’s leash to Grace. “Keep her as far away as possible.”
Grace did as requested and moved off to join her partner, Ember obediently following. Troy and Brett jogged to the car and Brett gave a set of orders as they dragged on the gear.
Troy didn’t doubt for a minute what he was doing, but as they headed around the back of the building to make their entry, a big part of him kept expecting to hear an explosion. Kept waiting for the reality that they weren’t fast enough.
“Remember,” Brett said as they got to the back door. “He’s not pulling any trigger until he’s out of there. Nothing about his behavior has suggested suicide mission up to now.”
It was an oddly comforting thought and Troy hoped like hell Brett was right.
The life of the woman he loved depended on it.
As he reached for the doorknob, intent on picking the lock, he felt the door turn in his palm.
One hurdle down.
It looked like the bastard was aiming to make a quick escape.
Evangeline hated the helpless feeling that had washed over her. The raw fear and the endlessly cycling thoughts of Troy, her mother and how much she wanted to be alive to talk to both of them again.
Yet even with the panicked thoughts, another flew through her mind on the same loop. She’d believed herself helpless these past few months, too.
And she couldn’t have been more wrong.
It was only now, strapped to a bomb, that she understood how strong she had really been. How much power she actually had to make a difference, the case against Len Davison be damned.
And how much she had to live for.
The man—did she even know his name?—had stalked around her a bit more, checking a few things on the chair and grunting as he bent his bulk over to look at the wiring before standing back up and looking at a small device in his hand.
A detonator?
The raw terror that had kept her on high alert spiked once more and Evangeline was shocked that she didn’t leap up off the chair from the sheer rush of it.
But it was when he took a few steps back and stared her dead in the eye that Evangeline realized there was nowhere to go.
And nowhere to hide.
So she might as well get her answers.
“How’d you do it?”
“Do what?” His voice was gruff but she saw the slightest flicker of respect in his eyes. Like he admired that she’d finally started asking questions.
“The woman. The alley. That looked awfully real.”
He guffawed at that—actually laughed—and Evangeline fought the need to scream.
“You mean my little acting job. It was easy to pull off. Been acting since I was a kid. I know all the tricks and I even do a decent make up job. It’s how I got out of Detroit in the first place.
“I’m real good, too.”
“Good enough to hide DNA?”
“That’s easy,” he said and waved a hand. “Pour a few cans of soda on the ground and you wash away any DNA left behind. Or you leave it so sticky, no one’s finding anything.”
Evangeline struggled to take it all in, but figured it was better to let him talk. As long as he was talking she was alive and that counted for something.
It had to.
“You really should take more care in your surroundings. You were easy to follow and it was even easier to break into this place. Ground floor.” He shook his head and Evangeline knew in that moment that if her hands were free she’d have smacked him.
“I had my friend all set up and she wore a blood packet. All we needed to do was get your attention and then the rest was easy. We ginned up that fake fight and you fell right for it.”
“That was fake blood?”
“Fake blood. Fake fight. Most of my waitresses want to be actresses anyway. A few hundred bucks and a day off.” He shrugged. “Easy.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to tell her more about the fake play he’d put on in downtown Grave Gulch.
Which made his next comment that much more surprising.
“This was never my intention, you know. Hurting you. At least, not at first.”
“Oh no?” She heard the quaver in her voice and hated it, but couldn’t help it around the adrenaline jangling her system.
“It’s just all gotten to be too much. I was so close to paying off my debts. Living without that hanging over my head, until you let that guy go free. And I finally realized, someone else has to suffer, too. You know?”
He turned on his heel then and left. As if that was somehow an explanation for what he’d done. Or a reason she should blithely accept his justifications while she sat strapped to a bomb.
She nearly let loose the scream that was building in her chest when she saw the flash of movement through the doorway to the kitchen. A loud grunt echoed from the direction of the living room as Brett Shea raced into the room.
“Evangeline! Don’t move!”
He was by her side immediately, his attention fully focused on the chair.
“He’s got a detonator. You have to leave! Now, Brett! You and Troy. You have to leave!”
“We’re not leaving without you.”
“But he’s going to blow us up.”
“Troy’s got it.”
“You—” Her voice trembled, raw in the throat from the urgency of it all. “You need to go help him.”
Brett nodded, understanding the import of her words. But it was the ones that came back to her that gave her the first kernel of hope. “He’s got a lot of incentive to ensure we’re all walking back out of here.”
Troy slammed a fist in Sal’s gut, the impact ringing through his wrist and up his arm. Damn, but the bastard was a grizzly bear. He was paunchy but big and he had a lot more power behind him than Troy expected.
He also had a detonator.
Brett had already shouted it from behind him as he sought a way to get at the detonator.
Troy wanted to scream at his partner to go to Evangeline, but for the moment, that detonator required their full focus. The presence of the police ensured the guy knew he was caught.
Which meant he had precious little motivation to keep them all alive.
Troy dodged a jab at his kidney but took a beefy fist to the ribs that nearly had him doubling over. It was only the reality of the stakes that kept his hand still locked hard on the man’s wrist, unwilling to give him any opportunity to press the button.
Brett moved in closer and Troy grunted as he tried to keep Sal pinned. But it was Brett’s quick stomp on the man’s exposed arm that ultimately did it. The combination of Troy’s hold on the wrist and Brett’s boot to the elbow had Sal screaming in pain, his fingers opening.
Brett snagged the detonator and raced to the kitchen. Troy moved equally fast, taking the temporary advantage and using it to turn the man over and dragging his hands behind his back. Sal’s Miranda rights were already falling from Troy’s lips as he tugged the handcuffs tight over those two meaty wrists.
Satisfied Sal was subdued, he opened the front door, his hands up. It was only when he got an “all clear” shout from Melissa, holding the line across the parking lot, that Troy screamed further orders.
“Stay where you are. Suspect is subdued but the bomb is still live.”
Melissa’s pale visage was the last thing he saw before he turned and ran toward the kitchen.
“Just a few minutes more, darlin’.” Brett’s voice was steady and calm and Evangeline figured it was costing him a lot to stay that way. And she wanted to believe him. She wanted to sink into that calm, reassuring voice and lose herself there.
Only she couldn’t because he was stuck under her kitchen chair, in close range of a bomb and Troy was sitting beside her at the table, his hand cradling hers.
“You need to leave. Please leave,” she’d asked, over and over, but the stubborn man refused to move.
Both men had put on bomb vests, after freeing her wrists and settling one over her, but it wasn’t enough. They needed to leave. It pressed on her, preying on her mind in an endless loop until a well of sobs finally took over, the adrenaline coursing through her body obscuring anything but the desperate prayer that they’d leave her and save themselves.
The sobs continued as she was lifted from the chair, wrapped in Troy’s arms as he walked her out of the house to the ambulance waiting in the parking lot. And they kept on when he climbed in behind the paramedics, riding with her to the hospital.
Later, she’d learn that Brett had executed the bomb’s defusion perfectly. She’d also learn that the bomb squad had come in for a formal sweep of her condo and all the other homes in her complex, declaring the entire facility safe. She’d even learn the name of the attacker, Sal Petrillo.
But all of it seemed so distant and foreign as she lay in the big hospital bed, machines beeping around her long into the night.
Troy stretched from his position on the chair beside Evangeline’s bed. He’d wanted to call her mother but had ultimately waited until morning. He knew she’d kept the news of her ordeal quiet and since it had been so late by the time she was fully checked out and brought to her room, he made the decision to err on the side of fresh morning light.
The doctor couldn’t give him much beyond the reassurance that she’d experienced a major trauma but would be all right with some time. So he’d stayed and waited and wondered how he could help her until her mother had shown up.
And after giving the kind woman with the even kinder eyes—Evangeline’s eyes—the details, he left. And went back to the precinct to write everything up. A steady stream of people came in to greet him throughout the day, all doing a mix of checking in and getting the latest on what had gone down. It was only when he finally confirmed that he’d tell everyone everything but he needed some quiet that the line outside his door finally died down.
Which was when Melissa showed up.
“You didn’t follow protocol yesterday.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“And because of that, you saved her.”
It was high praise from his chief. But it was the understanding in her eyes that was all family. Melissa closed his door before crossing to the chairs in front of his desk. “You doing okay?”
“Sure. It’s the job. We’re just fortunate those days are few and far between.”
Not that he’d ever been part of a bomb defusion six inches away from his body. And certainly not one for the woman he was in love with.
Which only added to all the reasons he needed to walk away. He’d been a detective on cases that Evangeline prosecuted. One of those cases involved the town serial killer. Davison had to be Troy’s full focus right now.
“I know you, Troy Colton. Why are you torturing yourself about this? And why aren’t you with Evangeline?”
“We need to stop spending time with each other. It’s as simple as that. We both have jobs to do, even if the past few days have made us lose sight of that.”
“Jobs? You both almost died yesterday.”
“But we didn’t.”
“Troy—” His name hung there and much as he wanted to just send her away, he finally gave in. Throwing down his pen, he gave his cousin his full attention.
“You didn’t see her in that chair, Mel. The fear in her eyes. And the adrenaline crash when the dam finally burst. She was in danger and has been all along and I spent half the time doubting her. Our jobs are too much at odds with one another. I knew it from the start and this has only proven it.”
“That’s bs and you know it.”
“Is it?” He might be sick of his own thoughts but he didn’t need his family’s interference, too. “How is it bull? Tell me how our professional lives haven’t complicated the situation.”
“It doesn’t matter if things got complicated. The point is that you care about each other.” He saw her grow still before she pressed on. “That you love each other. That doesn’t come along every day and to hell with some job standing in your way.”
“What good did that do my mother?” The words tore out of him, landing between him and Melissa with sharp, spiky edges. “She needed attention. She needed justice. But someone, somewhere dropped the ball. That’s why her murder is unsolved to this day.”
“You know as well as I do, we don’t close every one of them. It’s not a statement on the work, Troy. It’s a reality of the job.”
That might be the case but he’d spent a lifetime living with that reality. And he couldn’t stand the fact that his closed-mindedness and his inability to see the bigger picture of what was happening had nearly gotten Evangeline killed.
“The job takes everything. It’s just the way it is,” he said.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Melissa stood then and walked out of his office, leaving him to the empty thoughts that swirled in his mind, refusing to calm.
A week. Evangeline had been home a week. Her mother had fussed over her, making her favorite foods and sitting up talking with her late into the night. It had taken a few days but her mom had finally approached the question of why Evangeline had kept her in the dark about the leave of absence from her job.
After a lot of tears and “I’m sorrys,” Evangeline had finally shared the truth. That she was afraid of upsetting the new life her mother had built.
After getting a stern talking-to, full of Dora Whittaker’s abundant love and frustration, Evangeline could only laugh. How had she thought her mother couldn’t handle the truth? It was only after that storm passed that her mom had moved on to the subject of Troy.
Since that subject did nothing more than get Evangeline’s own ire up, her mother had ultimately changed the subject.
And now here she was.
The entire GGPD had checked in on her, Melissa at the front of the line. Brett and Ember had showed up with lunch one day earlier in the week. Grace and Ellie and Jillian had all come to see her, as well.
But Troy had stayed away.
Everyone diligently avoided mentioning his absence, but it loomed large all the same.
Which was why Evangeline ultimately moved on. The thoughts that had swirled so strong and sure during the experience with Sal Petrillo had morphed into purpose and, finally, action.
She loved the time she’d spent at the DA’s office, but it was time for something new. Through the years as a prosecutor she’d seen any number of women who’d been through similar situations as her mother. Families that had been torn apart by violence, physical and emotional, and who needed help and support to get back on their feet. It was something she’d thought about for years, but it finally felt like the time to make a change.
She’d given Arielle plenty of time in her resignation letter, but effective two weeks from now, Evangeline was beginning the courses needed to become a licensed social worker. It would be hard work to juggle the courses and her ADA job, but it was time to make a change.
Time to make a difference in the community in a new way.
It was a decision that felt right and good and she was ready to get started.
But first, she needed to close the current chapter of her life.
On the drive into downtown, she took in the familiar street signs and buildings she’d seen her entire life. Despite Sal Petrillo’s crimes against her, Grave Gulch was a good place to live. A good place to work and to build a life.
Evangeline was determined to find both.
She pulled into the parking lot at the GGPD and headed into the precinct. The steady hum of activity she always associated with the place was in full swing and she saw an active bullpen.
“Can I help—” Mary Suzuki broke off with a broad smile. “Ms. Whittaker. It’s good to see you. I’m so glad to see you’re doing okay.”
“Thank you. I wanted to see if Detective Troy Colton is in?”
“He is. Let me call him.” Mary was about to dial when Melissa materialized at the front desk.
“That won’t be necessary, Mary. I’ll walk Evangeline back.”
“Oh.” Mary’s eyes widened as she keyed in to why their chief was stepping in. “Thanks, Chief.”
Melissa gestured Evangeline through the door beside Mary’s desk, walking her through the bullpen. “I hope you brought your boxing gloves.”
“They don’t match my outfit,” Evangeline deadpanned, even as she caught onto Melissa’s meaning a lot quicker than Mary had.
“A solid choice, by the way. And those heels are awesome.” Melissa patted her back, giving her an encouraging smile as they reached Troy’s door. “No mercy.”
The obvious support buoyed her, giving her the final push she needed to get into Troy’s office. She had dressed carefully and the other woman’s notice added an extra shot in the arm.
Now or never, Whittaker.
“Troy. I’d like a few minutes.”
He looked up from his desk, the circles under his hazel eyes an obvious and outward sign of his exhaustion. “Evangeline.”
“You’ve been quiet this past week.”
“I’ve been trying to catch a killer.”
“I understand. Which is why I don’t need much of your time.” She turned and closed the door behind her. Whatever the outcome of this discussion, it was between her and Troy and no one else.
“I came to tell you a few things.”
She saw his mouth open in question but he quickly snapped it shut, saying nothing.
“I finally stopped crying. It took a few days, but I got it out of my system.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“I’m not. Those tears gave me a lot of clarity. Some things I hadn’t been willing to admit or address in my life.”
His eyebrows narrowed in question, adding additional creases to those dark circles. “Clarity on what?”
“I’m no longer interested in working for the DA’s office. I’ve had a good run but I think my talents can be put to better use somewhere else.”
“That’s a loss for Arielle and for Grave Gulch.”
“I don’t think so and neither does she. I’ll see out all my current cases for the foreseeable future, but I’m starting classes in a few weeks. My new focus will be social work. Hopefully I can help people before they find themselves in need.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you. But to be honest, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Why are you here, Evangeline?”
“I thought it was important to tell you that I love you.”
“I don’t—”
She held up a hand. “I don’t expect you to say it back. I also don’t expect you to do anything about it. But I do expect that you won’t lie to me.”
She saw the flash of heat in his eyes. Good. The jab hit its mark and she didn’t even need boxing gloves to do it.
“I haven’t lied to you,” he said.
“Then you’ve lied to yourself.”
As more anger flashed, Evangeline knew she’d landed another direct hit.
“You’ve somehow convinced yourself that the calling you have for your job means you can’t have a life. And that’s a steaming pile of crap.”
“It’s true.”
“No, actually, it’s not. Do you want to know how I know?”
She saw it then. The moment when everything shifted. When the walls he’d put up to protect himself began to crack. “How do you know?”
“Because I was there, too. I believed more of my father’s lies and abuses than I realized. I convinced myself that I didn’t have what it takes. Or that I had a hand tied behind my back because I always had to prove myself. That I was emotional. Or hysterically reacting to a situation. I wasn’t, but I forced myself to remain calm and dispassionate to make my choices.”
She let out a hard sigh. “Because of it, I let Len Davison slip through my fingers. I read the data but I didn’t truly read the evidence.”
“I’ve told you from the start that’s not all your fault.”
Oh, this sweet, sweet man, Evangeline marveled. Still singing that tune.
“But you see, Troy. It is my fault. That’s what I’ve had to come to accept. That data and details are just that. Items that sometimes add up and sometimes don’t. It’s what’s inside—” she moved closer, laying a hand on her chest “—what’s in here that matters.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’ve convinced yourself the only way you can honor your mother is to keep the cop separate from the man. But it’s the man you are that makes you an amazing cop. One your mother would be proud of.” Evangeline doubled down, full well knowing it was the truth. “One she is proud of.”
He came around his desk then and stood before her. “I can’t be someone I’m not.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“That if you love me you’ll take the chance on us. That you’ll fight for us. And that you’ll still be Detective Troy Colton every day, too.”
Whatever lingering ire filled his eyes vanished, replaced by a haunting vulnerability that skewered her clean through. “What if I don’t know how?”
“We’ll figure it out together.”
He closed the remaining distance between them, pulling her against his chest and bending his forehead to hers. “I do love you.”
“I love you, too.”
He lifted his head, his gaze never leaving hers. “Do you think it’s enough?”
“I think it will always be enough.”
And as Evangeline’s lips met Troy’s, she knew, with absolute certainty, that she was right.