23. Colin
Colin
“Have a nice honeymoon?”
“My mother is doing well, thanks for asking.” A flash of red crawls up my captain’s neck, but it’s gone just as quickly.
“Sorry, Colin.” He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. “How is she?”
I decide to cut him some slack, because I know I stress him the fuck out and that’s why he’s being an asshole. Clearing my throat, I nod and say, “She’s…okay.”
I can’t bring myself to say she’s doing great.
I also can’t bring myself to say she’s not doing so great, because what kind of son would I have been to walk away from her again?
To lay eyes on her and see that something was off, and still turn around and leave her there?
It’s needling at the lining of my stomach, the edges of my lungs, pinching me in places I never knew I could feel pain.
The whole trip kind of felt like a domino effect of shit.
Except…where Chloe is concerned. She made everything feel…better. More bearable.
I was on edge after learning about the recent death at my mother’s apartment complex.
It was a punch to the gut, the reminder that she could be gone tomorrow or need my help in some way, and it would take me an hour to get to her.
But Chloe, she sensed my energy shift, the tension that was carrying my footsteps to my mother’s unit with worry and fear drowning out any excitement at laying eyes on her.
And Chloe had been right—my mother would have noticed.
Or would she have? Because when I finally laid eyes on her and felt the tightness in my chest release at the confirmation she was at least alive, it twisted up again at her state of mind, at her lifeless eyes and ghostly appearance.
Then that fucking nurse, Vera. Wasn’t she busy?
Didn’t she have medications to deliver and charts to update all over the place?
So why was she so keen on waiting until Chloe and I were gone to administer my mother’s medications?
It only vaguely piqued my instincts, because I was so focused on Chloe and my mother and their curious interactions.
And then Chloe went all Mama Bear on my mother, and as caught off guard by her interrupting Vera’s work as I was, it sharply attuned me to the unease blanketing the air.
Chloe’s body had gone rigid. I could see her pulse thumping in her neck.
Vera’s demeanor had gone from friendly and agreeable to prickly and cold. And my mother…
Chloe’s idea to bring her closer to me has bounced around my brain since we’ve been back in Devil’s Peak.
I already made a call to her doctor this morning to ask about that new medication the nurse was trying to give her, and she was as confused as I’d been.
Said she’d look into it, and that did not make me feel any better.
“So, where are we with the trafficking case?” I ask Captain Barrett.
It’s comical, that when I returned to town, returned to the department, he was adamant I wasn’t active on the case.
He didn’t grip that demand very hard because I’ve been quite involved, and he’s not done much but give me flack about it.
He leans back in his chair, settling his elbows on the arms and eyeing me in defeat.
“Max has been released on bail,” he says slowly, knowing the words would be like a match to gasoline.
The anger flushes hot and fast through my chest, and I’m certain my skin is red and hot to the touch. “Released? He was arrested on murder charges. What do you mean he’s been released?”
“On bail,” my captain repeats, as if it matters. He’s still out in the wild and a danger to Chloe. “He has a good lawyer, Colin. And a clean record with strong ties to a very active non-profit organization.”
“And his DNA was found at two murder scenes.”
“He doesn’t deny knowing Richard and Grayson. St. Michael’s has them on their payroll records as consultants.”
I scoff so hard my breath hitches. “Human trafficking consultants?”
“Alleged,” Captain Barrett argues, and I know he’s only arguing the point Max’s lawyer is making in front of the judge.
My fists tighten on the arms of the chair, the thought of Chloe being vulnerable to him tensing my entire body.
After a moment that feels like it stretches on forever, flashes of Chloe dead and injured flying through my mind, he says, “Micah has a whole surveillance rotation going with Maeve and her friends. They’re safe. ”
I force myself to suck a steadying gulp of air in through my nostrils, letting it expand in my chest until it’s tight and painful before I blow it into the space in front of me. Micah has put together surveillance before, and as always, I trust him and his quality of work.
My captain eyes me until he seems to sense my heartrate slowing, and he continues with his update.
“The third man, Chase, remains at large. The cabin where the men were staying is still an active crime scene. There were four unique DNA samples identified there, two of them were a match to the two men we know about, Max and Logan. One of them we’re assuming belongs to Chase, but the fourth one has yet to be identified.
Forensics has been running it all weekend without any luck.
However,” he goes on, “all four samples indicate a close familial relationship.”
“Familial relationship,” I repeat, absorbing his words.
“Siblings,” he suggests. “Or parent and children. Once we’re able to confirm the identities of the final two, we should have a better idea of their relation.”
I hum, a hot poker of worry stabbing at my insides at the knowledge that Chase isn’t the only person I have to worry about protecting Chloe from, but now Max and some unidentified fourth person as well.
Are they after Chloe and her friends, or is Max’s apparent family detonating from the inside out?
“We’ve been in contact with Mt. Lance,” he continues, his voice tightening like he’s getting ready to deliver bad news. “This is big, Colin. Mt. Lance has alerted SBI. We have a conference call with them today, and they’ll be sending some folks down this week.”
Well, that might be bad news for some people on our team, but I know Alex, myself, and Micah, too, will appreciate the extra resources and support.
“PD up there hasn’t made any moves on the director at St. Michael’s, and our team here discovered a puppet master even higher than him pulling the strings on this shit show.
” He runs a large hand down his face, the weariness evident in the fine lines around his frowning lips and the way his light brown eyes grow darker with worry.
“This has gotten so far out of control,” he mutters.
“Doesn’t it always?” I wonder aloud, defeat and annoyance flaming under my skin like an itch that can’t be scratched.
Investigations almost never go how we’d expect them to.
They’ve never been open and shut, or simple and obvious.
And in a smaller town like ours, where you’d expect to mostly see petty and non-violent crimes, we’ve been plagued with complexity over the last few years.
A serial husband murderer and a human trafficking ring leaving a trail of murders and assaults in its wake?
It doesn’t get more convoluted than that.
The thought brings to the surface of my mind another familiar one: Chloe’s connection to both investigations.
I’d thought that before, that this beautiful, mysterious, elusive woman was curiously linked to both incidents, but I’d never thought a step further than that and wondered…
if the two crimes are connected to each other as well.
Simultaneously, Chloe’s words about wondering why when someone dies spring to life in my mind. Such a curious statement that was, and here we are, with all these people turning out to be so deeply involved in murderous mayhem. How could she have known that? Or did she?
I shake my head, and my captain’s brow furrows, appearing to notice I was having some sort of internal battle.
“What?” he asks. I shake my head again, trying to free myself of the old thought pattern that was misguided by obsession and an instinct that is clearly out of practice.
But as many reprimands and eye rolls as I’ve received from him on the topic of her, I decide to be honest, anyway.
He’s not an idiot. He’d given me another warning when Alex had to drag me off Max in that alley.
When Chloe was lying on the ground and I was overcome with the need to go to her, but I couldn’t pull myself away from the man who had hurt her.
His warning then had been gentler than all the ones before. His hand on my shoulder had been softer, eyes gleaming with care instead of anger. You’re too close to this, Colin.
I have always been too close to this. To her.
And as deep as her dark, but gentle, waters pull me under, I find myself relaxed in them. Buoyant. Not resisting, when everything in my body has been telling me I should be.
“I was just thinking about…Chloe,” I say, my voice cracking on her name. I’m still getting used to saying it aloud without it being wrapped in frustration.
Captain Barrett has been my supervisor for close to a decade, and the work we do isn’t easy. He’s seen me on my absolute worst days, and he still manages to treat me with dignity and respect—when I deserve it. In some ways, he’s become the father I wish I had.
I continue before he has a chance to say anything. “About how I always thought she was connected to her mother’s case in some way.”
The captain’s lips are a thin line, but he nods at me to continue, his eyes blinking closed for an extended second.
I clear my throat. “And then this case…with the men following Chloe and her friend’s name being carved into the guy’s stomach.
Do you think…” I hesitate, filled with shame for speaking the words out loud because Chloe and I—our relationship—has changed so much in the last few weeks.
I’ve seen another side of her, a side I’ve refused to believe even existed all this time.
I was wrong. And here I am, still unable to shake the habit of accusing her.
“You’ve crossed a line with her,” he says evenly, but it lacks its usual bitter edge.
He’s not scolding me, or threatening me to back off.
It’s more of an observation, and he wants me to confirm it.
I nod, giving him his answer and swallowing the lump in my throat.
“You don’t believe yourself anymore, Colin.
Don’t do that. Don’t lose trust in your intuition. Do you think it’s all connected?”
I let a weighted sigh whoosh past my lips. “A few weeks ago, I would have said fuck yes. Today? Maybe.”
“What changed?”
I shift in my seat, glancing out the windows at my colleagues who are talking amongst themselves or sitting at their desks and scrolling on their laptops. No one is paying me any attention, but I still feel hot telling someone out loud how I’m feeling about her.
“She’s…different. With the kids and moms at Hope House, she was so gentle and uplifting, like she was meant to work with kiddos who were overcoming traumas.
And with my mother, she was attentive to her.
Soft. But then…” I clear my throat, thinking about the way Chloe’s soft demeanor went cold and rigid when Nurse Vera was around.
Flashes of her from my memories over the years play in front of my eyes, her flippant, cold attitude.
How detached she was when I told her about Richard Soffett washing up during the family lunch hour.
How quickly she moved on from the deaths of her own stepdads.
But then her eyes light up when she’s cleaning one of her skulls or surveying them on her basement wall. And she’s gleeful and the furthest thing from detached when she’s working with the kids.
How are those two sides of her the same woman?
“You’re a smart man, Colin,” my captain says, interrupting my thoughts, but I can’t ignore the sudden whiplash this conversation is giving me, like he hasn’t chastised me for going near her all this time.
“You think I should keep digging? What’s changed for you?
You’ve been hounding my ass to stay away from her this whole time.
” I won’t lie, I’m a tad annoyed. He’s my supervisor; if he had told me to keep digging, I would have.
But Caroline Stark’s threat to sue the department—to sue me—if I didn’t back off drove his demands, and I can’t blame him for that.
Captain Barrett straightens in his chair, studying me like he can read my thoughts and doesn’t know how to feel about what he’s seeing.
Conflict. Uncertainty. He coughs into his hand, a gesture that seems only intended to fill the silence before he says, “I think you should decide if one of those sides of hers matters more to you.”