TWENTY-ONE

Erin dared to lift her gaze to Nathan and wished she hadn’t. His eyes were riveted on her.

What was he thinking? That she’d lost her mind? She was overly dramatic?

She’d only meant to encourage him with the truth as she saw it. Her view came from dealing with the ever-growing population of the criminally minded and the psychopaths out there. People had no idea what law enforcement went through to bring these people in, the battles they had to fight under great restrictions, and then the battles they faced again when defense attorneys tried to free the worst sorts of criminals on technicalities.

Clearing her throat, breaking the spell, Erin moved the candle to the side of the table against the wall and placed the tablet in the center between them. Time to get down to business.

He moved to sit next to her instead of across from her. She could have flipped the tablet so he could see, but this made it easier for them to study.

Except for the fact that he was close, and that was a distraction.

They both stared at the tablet—the image of the crime board Erin had taken—in silence. What are we doing again? She found it hard to think with him so close, and she couldn’t afford anything but a clear mind.

“So much was erased already,” Nathan said. “I hope we can figure it out with only the peripheral details.”

“As I said, we’ll work it in reverse and hope for the best.”

“Too bad I can’t just walk into the Gifford PD and ask about the case Dad had been removed from.”

His cell rang, and he glanced at the screen. The look he shot Erin told her he wasn’t happy about the call, and then the way he slinked down in the chair confirmed it.

“Great timing,” he said.

“Who is it?”

He eyed his cell. “I should answer and get this over with. I’ve been expecting this call.”

Ah. “Henry.”

Nathan nodded and put his cell on speaker but turned down the sound so only they would be able to hear. “Campbell here.”

“Nathan! What in the world are you doing in Boston?”

“I wanted to check on Dad’s house to make sure everything was okay. It wasn’t. I interrupted a burglary in process.”

“So I hear. I thought we agreed you would not be investigating your dad’s shooting.”

He glanced at Erin.

Would Nathan bring her into this now? Or would that make any difference to Henry at all?

Nathan scratched his head. “Technically, I wasn’t investigating his shooting. I simply wanted—”

“Save it,” Henry said. “We both know you didn’t fly out to Boston to check on his house. I gave you time off to spend with him and to take it easy after what you’ve gone through. If you’re going to work, you can hightail it right back here and I’ll put you on the Rocky Mountain Courage Memorial case.”

What? Erin leaned closer as if she could somehow force Henry’s explanation out of him this instant.

“I thought we closed that case,” Nathan said.

“It was dead, not closed. But it has been revived. Another vandalism occurred last night.”

Oh no. Erin lifted her gaze to Nathan.

Erin wanted to ask Henry for the details if Nathan wouldn’t, but she doubted he wanted Henry to know she was listening to the call.

“You need to put someone else on that, because I won’t be back for a couple of days.” Nathan crossed his arms as if Henry could see his resolve.

“Nathan.”

“You gave me two weeks off, and you can’t change that on me.”

“Your actions could interfere with the investigation. I know you don’t want this to end in a miscarriage of justice, do you?”

It was then that the waiter showed up with their food. Sergio gingerly placed Nathan’s steak in front of him, then set Erin’s hamburger in front of her.

Erin nodded and quietly thanked the waiter, who slipped away so he wouldn’t disturb the serious conversation. Nathan cringed at Henry’s words but waited until the waiter was gone to respond. Erin couldn’t believe he still had the cell on speaker, but Nathan apparently wanted her privy to this conversation. A witness, perhaps.

“Of course not.”

“Or worse, I might have to suspend you. You’re a good detective. You’re the son of one of my best friends, so please do not force my hand on this.”

Nathan leaned in and spoke in a hushed voice. “Henry, you gave me some leeway. Remember that? I haven’t tampered with anything. I’m not lying or hiding evidence or touching it or messing with it in any way. I’ve . . . well, I’ve hired someone to help.”

Silence met him on the line.

“Why? Because you don’t trust your fellow detectives?” Both hurt and anger blasted across the distance through his cell.

Nathan sagged. “Look, I’m in a precarious position. We need to talk when I get back, and I’ll explain everything.” Nathan ended the call without another word.

Erin stared at him.

He shrugged and averted his gaze. “There’s nothing more I want to hear from him.”

Erin keenly felt his apprehension. She also heard his stomach rumble. Poor guy, because he probably wasn’t in the mood to eat now.

“Nathan, I’m sorry. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the call, after all.”

“Yeah, well, I did.”

“Your boss is working off the same lack of information that you are. I suggest we get as much information as we can, and then when you return and face him, you can extend an olive branch in the form of a lead only you could have found, because only you knew what your father had said. If you ask me, he sounded more like a father figure who is worried about you, a man he considers like a son to him.”

“Yeah, well, I already have a father, and he’s lying in a hospital with a gunshot wound to the head.”