42
One week later
Evan sat at a table on the back patio of the Wolffs’ home watching Rowan throw a Frisbee for Thor in the yard. The dog’s rapid acceleration turned him into a black blur against the green grass. It was unusually warm for spring, and the sky was as blue as always.
Almost as if nothing has happened.
As if their lives hadn’t been flipped upside down.
He eyed the pile of mail Rowan’s mother had set next to him.
“Rowan wouldn’t go through it while ... while you were gone,” she’d said.
Evan had nodded in understanding. He didn’t know what he would have done with Rowan’s mail if she were missing.
We’re very lucky.
He started tossing the junk mail into a separate pile.
The last week had been one of rest. He’d been given time off work and had been told to let the department know when he wanted to return.
Today I’m not sure I want to.
But he knew he would. The job was part of his identity, and deep down he loved it and knew he made a difference. He just needed more time.
Two days ago they’d attended Rod’s memorial service. A wave of blue in the seats. Sophia and Zack had stuck close to one another. Both had a haunted look in their eyes but were thankful they still had each other. For Evan at first it’d felt odd not to have Zack within reach anymore. His protectiveness toward the boy was stronger than ever. They hadn’t been flung together all that long, but it was as if they’d experienced a lifetime of pain and uncertainty.
Evan had asked Sophia about the “evidence” that Dale a.k.a. Sid had claimed one of them had. She’d said she didn’t know what he’d meant. She’d told him that Rod had believed Evan would figure it out if anything happened to him.
“But he deliberately kept things from me,” Evan had told her.
“I know. He did the same to me. I can’t help but wonder if he’d still be here if he’d immediately told us of his suspicions.” Her eyes had welled with tears, and Evan had hugged her, haunted by the same question.
Thor slid to a stop before Evan, the Frisbee in his mouth, his ears and eyes in an eager question.
/play/
Evan threw the Frisbee, and the dog rocketed away.
Rowan sat down in the next chair, fanning her face. “I’m done. It’s your turn. He’ll never stop.”
“This yard isn’t big enough for him. The Frisbee runs are too short.”
“I know,” Rowan agreed. “He misses our huge yard.”
Evan watched her from the corner of his eye. She’d refused any discussion of their home and the fire. This was the first time she’d alluded to it. He’d been thinking about what to do, but it was her house. He didn’t want to influence her decision.
“I miss it too,” he said, still watching her.
“I’ve been thinking about it.” She turned to face him. “What do you want to do? Sell the property? Rebuild it?”
“It’s not my house,” he said.
Annoyance flashed. “Yes, it is. It belongs to both of us now.”
Evan turned his attention to Thor, who’d returned with the Frisbee but simply dropped it without begging and watched the two of them talk as if he knew this wasn’t a good time to play.
“I loved that house,” he said slowly. “But it was yours first. I know it’s not what you intended, but I sort of felt like a guest. Not in a bad way,” he quickly added as her face fell. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I think I understand. It’s how I’ve felt staying at my parents’. I know I’m welcome here, and I have my own space, but it’s not the same as mine .”
“I want a space that’s ours ,” he said as he added three credit card offers to the junk pile.
“So sell?” she asked.
Evan scanned the fenced backyard of her parents’ home. “Your lot and location are perfect. Big, lots of room for Thor to run. It will always have the huge fields behind it.”
She took his hand and squeezed, a smile filling her face. “Let’s rebuild. Let’s find a house plan we both love and make it happen. Make it ours .”
“Is that what you want?”
“I do.”
Evan grinned. “I do too. The idea has been stuck in my head for days.”
She leaned over and kissed him. “It’s decided, then.”
“Lucky me.” He leaned back in his chair, feeling the best he’d felt in weeks. His cuts and bruises were nearly all healed. A round of antibiotics had taken care of infection. And food had never tasted so good.
He picked up a small envelope, and a wave of nausea rolled through him.
“Rowan.” He held the envelope out to her.
She studied it and frowned. “What is it?”
“Don’t know. But that’s Rod’s address in the corner. It’s postmarked three days before we found him.” He slid the envelope through his fingers. “Something thin and rigid in the corner.” His heartbeat had sped up at the sight of the address.
Do I need to treat this as evidence?
JB was dead. Sid was dead. Cynthia had admitted she’d planted the gun for Sid. Sid had told Evan he’d killed Rod.
The case is closed.
Evan carefully opened it and pulled out two sheets of paper. He tipped the envelope up, and a tiny memory card came out.
“That’s got to be the evidence that Sid wanted,” breathed Rowan. “He couldn’t find it because Rod mailed it to you.”
Evan looked at the first page. It was a high-quality photocopy showing three photos of JB.
“See how the photos have dates and comments on the side? Rod must have copied them from Facebook,” said Rowan. She pulled out her phone and started to search for something.
In each photo, JB posed with several guns. Showing them off, holding them out tipped down like he was a wannabe gangster. Evan’s gaze locked on one of the weapons, its distinctive engraving clear in the photo.
That’s the gun Cynthia planted at Sid’s crime scene.
“JB’s profile no longer has these photos,” said Rowan. “And according to the dates on them, they were posted months before Sid was arrested.”
“Rod must have done a deep background dive into Cynthia and her brother,” said Evan. “When he spotted these photos, he knew he had proof that the gun could be linked to Cynthia, who had the opportunity to plant it.”
“Which made Rod look at other cases she’d worked on, wondering if she tipped evidence one way or the other. He also must have worried it involved more people than Cynthia, which is why he kept it to himself,” added Rowan. “When she told Sid that Rod was asking questions, I bet one of them thought to go through JB’s social media, spotted the photos, and made him take them down.”
“But Sid rightfully worried Rod had already found them,” added Evan. “Kicking off Sid’s relentless search.”
“Cynthia swears she didn’t change evidence on other cases—except this one and that previous one, which gave Sid the opportunity to blackmail her,” said Rowan. “But she’s out of a job. And I heard lawyers are demanding the cases she worked on to be reopened or thrown out.”
“It’s a mess,” Evan agreed.
He looked at the next page. It was a brief note from Rod. His lungs seized at the familiar printing. Perfect letters, perfect lines. Just how he’d always filled out his paperwork.
Evan,
Sending this because you’ll figure out what it means.
If you get this letter and I’m fine, we’ll celebrate that our original gut instincts about this case were right. If you get this and I’m gone, know that you’re the one person I trusted. You were always the best detective I ever worked with—you must have had an amazing mentor.
Always hoped you and Sophia would work it out ... but Rowan is the right woman for you.
Rod
“Rod,” Evan said quietly. “He suspected Sid would get to him. This was his insurance.”
“That’s so sad,” said Rowan. “How awful that he felt he couldn’t tell anyone.”
“He could have told me,” Evan said.
“He was protecting you.”
I know.
Evan folded the papers, tucked them back in the envelope, and added the tiny memory card—which must have the photo originals. He set it on the table and took Rowan’s hand.
He would never be the same; he’d seen and experienced things no human should. But it was okay. Rowan was beside him, and the future had rolled out a path for them.
Together they sat quietly, simply holding hands and looking at the trees against the blue sky.
“So peaceful.” Evan would never take his life for granted.
Good job. Good health. And Rowan.
He met her warm gaze, and they both smiled.
She appreciates it too.
A second chance.
Thor shoved his cold, wet nose into their hands, startling Evan. Rowan laughed as she stroked his ears with her other hand. “Good boy, Thor.”
Shining black eyes gazed at them.
/love/