“I only saw the guy on the ground,” said the sergeant. “He was already down when we pulled up. I didn’t see anyone else.” He grimaced. “And we didn’t look around for another person. The victims had seen the guy get hit and didn’t suggest someone had been with him.”
“There’s a set of shoe prints in the dirt over there,” said the tech, pointing at a bed of shrubs that divided Ivy’s property from her neighbors’. A wide swath of grass separated the shrub bed from the driveway. “I could tell someone crossed the grass from the bed. And according to the officers who took the attacker to the hospital, he has on Nike tennis shoes. I called them to ask when I found the prints. Those are tennis shoes but not Nikes. The problem is I can’t tell you how long ago the prints were made.” She lifted her hands in a who-knows gesture. “Someone could have walked through there this afternoon. But I’ve photographed and recorded them.”
“Good job.” Evan could see the disturbance in the grass. A concrete walkway ran along the side of the house and then curved to join the driveway. Adam would have used it after breaking West’s window in the back of the house.
Evan walked down the driveway and followed the sidewalk to the bed of shrubs. One of the portable lights shone on the shrub bed. The tech must have directed it that way to process the prints. He stood on the sidewalk, hesitant to step into the neighbors’ grass or Ivy’s, not wanting to ruin any evidence.
“You can walk on the grass, Detective,” the tech told him. “I’m finished there.”
He took a few steps in the grass and spotted prints near the biggest shrub. There were several, as if someone had stood there awhile, not simply walked straight through.
Rowan might have been right about seeing two men.
He scanned the slight depressions in the grass, seeing that they led straight to where Adam had been knocked down.
But where did the second man go after that?
Unless it had been a neighbor cutting through the yard earlier that day for some reason. Evan walked back around to the tech and sergeant. “What’d the attacker have to say?”
“Not much. Just cursing out his ex-wife even though he couldn’t see her,” said the sergeant. “He was drunk. I heard his blood alcohol at the hospital came back as a point-one-nine. He also hit his head pretty hard and was dazed while we cuffed him on the ground. Didn’t seem aware of what had happened.”
“Thanks.” Evan headed back inside, ready to drive Rowan home.
Twenty minutes later they were almost to her house with Thor happily panting in the back seat. Evan had told her about the footprints, but she doubted they were relevant since the tech couldn’t tell how old they were. Rowan had spent most of the time texting and having short calls with her sisters and parents, checking up on them.
She leaned back in her seat and sighed. “You now have another case on your plate. At least Adam was caught. That should make things easier.”
“It’s not my case.”
Her head swiveled in his direction. “What? Then why did you come? How did you know?”
“Noelle is the detective on call tonight. It’s her case. She’s wrapping up another scene, and the sergeant will stick around until she arrives. She texted me when she learned it was your sister’s home and that you were here.”
There was a long pause. “You came just to check on me?” Rowan asked.
“Yes.” He glanced her way, wondering what she would read into that.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “But why would Detective Marshall think to text you?”
Tell her the truth.
He had nothing to lose.
“She’s perceptive,” he said.
“Women often are.”
“I think she noticed that I care about you more than as a friend.” He grinned at her. “What do you think of that?”
Even in the dark car, he saw her smile, and electricity flared between them. “I think she did us a favor.” She reached over and touched his cheek, her fingertips gently dragging over his stubble.
Evan felt it all the way to his toes.
Then she slid her hand down his arm and took his hand in hers. He squeezed it.
“I’ve been interested in you since the first time we met,” she said, squeezing his hand in return. “I think that was two years ago.”
“At least,” said Evan. “I noticed you too . . . but the timing was never right.”
“Is it right now?”
The interview with Jerry Chiavo suddenly thrust to the front of his brain along with his earlier realization that Rowan was somehow intertwined with several of his cases. “I don’t know,” he blurted.
Her hand stilled in his.
“I mean . . . I’m ready. Definitely. And it appears you are too.” He looked her way and she nodded. “But you’re connected to several of the cases I’m working on. I don’t know if I’m crossing a line somewhere. Honestly, I’m not sure where that line is.”
“I understand.” Her fingers tightened on his. “We’ll figure it out. It’s not like I’m a suspect.” There was a smile in her tone.
“No, thank God.” Evan turned into her driveway, and Thor stood on his seat, tail wagging, ready to be let out.
Rowan hesitated. “I told you that Thor growled before I saw Adam in the backyard. He did the same thing at my back door yesterday. He almost never growls.”
“Shit. You think Adam was here?” Anger flooded him.
“I don’t know what to think, and I can’t come up with a good reason why Adam would come here. It really surprised me to hear a growl two days in a row.”
“I’m going to check the house first,” Evan said. “Give me your keys.”
“Adam is in jail—well, he will be as soon as he leaves the hospital. I have nothing to worry about now. I’m sure it was a coyote or bobcat in the yard.”
“Humor me.” The image of those footprints in the shrub bed popped into his head.
Is there a second man?
He—or Noelle—needed to talk to Adam.
Rowan handed him her keys. She hadn’t added any more protests, and that bothered him a little. Either she knew it could have been a person in her yard, or she was very tired.
He would put money on the latter.
Ten minutes later he’d cleared her home and brought her and Thor inside. It was nearly 1:00 a.m. He stood at her front door, his fingers on the handle, knowing he needed to leave but not wanting to. Rowan was tired, her usual energy dim. She looked at his hand on the door and then met his gaze.
“You should go,” she said softly. Her eyes suggested something else.
Evan debated. He was highly tempted. But this wasn’t how he wanted to start something. He wanted to take her to dinner or maybe a movie or perhaps on a hike, really get to know her. He was old fashioned that way, and he didn’t want to mess this up. It was important.
He stepped away from the door and slid one hand around her waist and the other into her hair, pressing her mouth to his. She sighed into the kiss, and her hands were hot against his chest.
It felt right. More right than any other kiss he’d had.
After several moments he pulled back and touched his forehead to hers. “I’m going home. But you need to know that I don’t want to . . . but I feel it’s the correct thing to do tonight.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Minutes later Evan was driving home, his window all the way down and warm night air blowing over the giant grin on his face.
32
I never questioned Liam about the Ford that was parked outside for a few days.
It was none of my business, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t like the answer.
Silence is always best.
A few days ago I dropped him off up in the mountains where he said he was meeting someone and wouldn’t need a ride back. I don’t have a license, but he’d taught me to drive. I always drive exactly the speed limit and never make an error. He’d told me if I was pulled over, I’d end up in prison once they knew that I’d helped with the bodies.
I don’t want to go to prison.
The day I dropped Liam off was a good day. I rarely got to drive alone. I’ve been tempted to simply keep driving, but he said there is a tracker on the truck. I know these exist; I’ve read about them in books, so he’d always have a way to find me. And if he didn’t find me, he knew where my previous family lived and would kill them.