lookout in the woods. His grandpa Phil had found him that day and took him right back to school, where heâd been made to write an apology to the teacher and sit with the first graders at lunchtime for a week. Heâd towered over those kids, trying without success to scrunch down so he wouldnât be as obvious as Gulliver in the land of the Lilliputians.
âYou canât hide from shame, Micky boy,â his grandpa had said.
No, you canât, Grandpa.
When there was nothing left to say, Mick accepted a ride from Uttley back to his truck, parked a half mile from where heâd finally caught up with Keeley and Tucker.
Uttley was quiet for most of the trip, but Mick knew his wheels were turning.
âGot a call from Reggie Donaldson alerting us that Rivendale was likely on his way. Not time enough for us to do much.â
Mick watched the moon glittering in brilliant streaks through the spires of the fir trees.
âSo I get that this is personal.â He cleared his throat. âIâve been here awhile, so I was on the team that found LeeAnn. I wasnât the chief then. We were dispatched after Keeley got the text from her sister. I replay it in my mind all the time. I think if weâd found her sooner, if we got there quicker, we could have taken him into custody. More bad luck that your pal Reggie spotted him and tried to make the arrest. Tucker took him down, the car rolled into the pond, and he was long gone before we made it on scene.â He huffed out a breath. âI had a bad feeling when we pulled that car out of the water, but I hoped it wasnât true. Kept right on hoping until we popped the trunk.â
Reggie had told Mick later that the sight of LeeAnn in that trunk would never leave his memory to his dying day. âIt was as if she was staring at me, asking how we let it happen.â
How had Mick let it happen? How had he been so completely fooled about Tuckerâs character?
Uttley shook his head. âPoor kid. LeeAnn was only guilty of loving the wrong guy. Never understood how girls could be so led by their hearts and not their heads.â
Mick kept quiet.
Uttley tapped the steering wheel. âIâve had situations that went bad, too. It stays with you. I understand. I know what itâs like to believe in a parolee, to want them to succeed so much it blinds you to the facts.â
There was something naked and raw in his tone that spoke of personal experience, but Mick knew cops, and they didnât share with people who didnât wear badges. Mick waited for the bottom line.
âBut youâre not a cop, and you make things worse by being here, so Iâm glad youâre going home.â
Mick knew Uttley was right. Go home. Stay out of it.
It will only make things harder for the family Iâve already ruined.
Still, he wondered as he thanked Uttley and gunned the engine on his truck.
What had Tucker said to Keeley back there in the darkness?
And why had she chosen not to tell the police about it?
* * *
I want whatâs mine.
Had Tucker really said it? Did he really know? Sheâd not heard correctly. That was all. Her mind played a vile trick on her.
Keeley could not dislodge the words from inside.
Jaw tight, she finally convinced John to leave.
âIâm fine. The house is locked up. The police are increasing their patrols. Iâll be at the vet clinic tomorrow evening to help with the birds for a couple of hours.â
âKeeley, itâs okay to admit youâre scared. Why donât you take some time off? Let me cook for you, or we can go for a walk.â
She shook her head. âThank you, but I need to work.â Did she ever. The tiny house was hers after LeeAnnâs death, but debt circled around her like a flock of ravenous crows. It was another ten days until the check would arrive, that mysterious check that showed up in time to save her, or so it seemed, every month.
âJohn, you