Chapter 45
Emery
Little green tips poke out from the cold earth in the border garden that runs the length of the front porch. My mother planted those tulips and daffodils. Each year they multiply, and I hear her voice reminding me that I should dig them up, divide the bulbs so they’ll thrive. But I don’t.
Because my mother planted them there.
I’m admiring this earliest sign of spring when Dillon’s sedan moves slowly up the driveway. Familiar tension slides into my body as I prepare for verbal combat.
Isla is behind the wheel. She hops out and moves fast for her bag as Dillon exits the passenger seat. “See you this weekend!”
“Hey!” He comes around the front of the car, still dressed in a button-down and slacks. “Where’s my hug!”
Isla reluctantly doubles back, offering him a limp, quick embrace before darting up the stairs.
“Wow. That’s all I get?” he hollers but his expression is soft as he watches her vanish behind the door.
“Did she eat?” I ask.
“She did. Donna made that chicken dish she loves so much.”
I smile. That was my father’s famous secret casserole.
The first time Isla came home and told me that Donna had served it, I wanted to storm their kitchen and reclaim the recipe.
I was so furious with Dillon for passing on my family secrets.
But now I see it for what it was—Donna’s attempt to bring my child comfort. “And sleep?”
“As much as any teenager does, I guess?” He shrugs. “I poked my head in and heard snoring.”
“Good.” Okay, then. “Has she heard anything yet? About Jack Barrow?”
Dillon shakes his head. He knows about the warrant. I told him.
I breathe a sigh of relief, though there’s none to be found in the situation. If Terry and Schmidt got a judge to sign off, it’s because they found cause. “Have a good night.” I move for the steps.
“You had to distance yourself from Holly’s case?” Dillon stoops to pet Duke’s head, ignoring my dismissal.
I’d ask where he heard that, but frankly, I don’t care. “Honest to God, if you are here to lecture or otherwise give me grief—”
“It was the right thing to do,” he interrupts. “Given how close you are to all of them.”
“Oh.” Not the calm and mature response I was expecting.
“Yeah, well, the sooner they figure this out, the better.” And the sooner people stop looking at Logan for it.
But if, God forbid, Jack has something to do with Holly’s death, it won’t matter that Logan’s cleared.
Not for some people around here. He’ll be guilty by association, by bloodline.
And my days as detachment commander will certainly be coming to an end.
“I agree.” Dillon takes a deep breath. “You deserve to be happy, Emery. I really hope you can be.”
I frown at his sudden cordial attitude. “Are you dying?”
He chuckles. “No, I’m just … trying to look at things differently. You’re willing to risk your reputation for him. I guess that means something. There’s not much I can do to help you—”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“Right. Well, have a good night. Tell Sarah good luck with the girls. They’ve gotta be due soon.”
I offer a delayed “I will,” and watch Dillon’s car crawl away, baffled. I expected him to be spewing threats and warnings. This was more unsettling.
Isla barrels out the door, having changed into her sweats. “Annie invited us for apple pie.”
I hum. Annie knows that’s Isla’s favorite.
And I know Annie bakes pies and texts people to come over to eat them when she’s stressed. It’s akin to sending up the Bat-Signal. I don’t blame her. With the warrant out to search Jack’s things, we’re all worried.
I fall into step beside Isla as we slog across the muddy, brown field in the waning light, our rubber boots sinking into the softening earth with each step.
The days are growing long quickly again, the sun not setting until nearly eight p.m. The ice rink is long gone, the boards stacked in a barn, the tarp rolled up. It’s as if it were never there.
The warm months are ahead, waiting around the corner with their green grass and leafy trees and sunny summer days you can bask in.
It’s the same feeling after every winter—you just need to get through this next stretch of cold drizzle while you wait for the earth to wake up, for the birds to sing in the morning once again, and the blooms to arrive.
Annie often scatters wildflower seeds in this narrow field between our houses, turning the patch into a jungle of black-eyed Susans and purple prairie clover. That’s what I’m looking forward to now, especially knowing Logan is waiting for me on the other side.
I hesitate, struggling how to broach the subject of Holly with my daughter. In the end, I decide on a safer topic. “Hey, does your dad seem a little off to you?”
“You mean, nicer?”
“Let the record show that I did not say that.” I’ve always tried my hardest to not bad-mouth Dillon in front of her. “He said I deserve to be happy. He’s never said that to me before.”
A secretive smile spreads across Isla’s face.
“What’s that for?”
“Last night, he told me that he knows there’s something going on between you and Logan.”
“Yeah, I guess the secret’s out.” I’ve felt the looks around the station and around town for weeks now.
At first, I thought I was being paranoid or overly sensitive, but I’ve since seen several vague posts in the community’s Facebook group about the ethics and local law enforcement, and hints of a brewing scandal, and I can only assume I’m the scandal.
People seem to think I’m actually breaking the law for loving Logan.
I’m sure Doug Freeman will be pleased to know that the head of Cold River’s police sleeping with the recently released dangerous Landry criminal is such a hot topic in the gossip circles. It’ll only help him with his efforts to get rid of me.
“Are you going to lose your job?” Isla asks.
“They can’t fire me for loving someone. But they can make it hard for me to want to stay.
” I’ve seen it happen. Once your spiteful boss decides you don’t fit—for whatever reason, justified or not—they can make you very uncomfortable.
Denied promotions, unpleasant tasks, blocking overtime, micromanaging your decisions.
At that point, people start looking for a way out, a transfer to other detachments or assignments, sometimes hours away, relying on past relationships to put in a good word.
I’m not moving anywhere—not because Doug Freeman wants me gone.
“So, you do love him?”
“I never stopped.”
Isla seems to ponder this. “You shouldn’t stay if they do that. It’s just a job.”
“Says the girl who’s never paid a bill in her life.
” I soften the blow with a wink. “You don’t go into this line of work because it’s just a job.
Not with everything we see and do.” I’ve learned to compartmentalize, but some of those calls still linger in the recesses of my mind.
I’ll never shake them. “This is who I’ve been my whole adult life.
It’s become a part of me. It’s my identity in a lot of ways.
” That’s not an uncommon feeling. “But … you’re right.
When I think about what really matters to me?
It is just a job.” And maybe it’s time I started thinking about the next stage of my life.
Isla avoids a hole in the ground where an animal burrowed for the winter. “Dad asked me what I thought of Logan.”
“Yeah?” I hesitate. “What’d you tell him?”
“I said that Logan listens to me and he’s easy to talk to. And that I’ve never seen you this happy, which makes me happy.”
Dillon’s words earlier—and that cute smile of hers just now—are making sense. I collect her ponytail in my grasp, smoothing my hand over it. “That’s sweet.”
We pass by the garage and head for the main house.
“I also told him that I know he cheated on you with Donna.” She charges ahead while my feet slow a beat.
Brooks opens the front door, welcoming us into the chaotic warmth of the Landry household, where Holt’s and Jon’s voices carry from the kitchen as they argue about the new bull, and Egan bangs his drum, all while a playoff hockey game fills the TV screen in the corner.
Sarah is stretched out on the couch, propped up by multiple pillows.
Logan and Thomas sit across from each other at the table, a chessboard in between them. Macy is perched on Logan’s lap, her thumb stuck in her mouth.
“What do you think our next move should be?” Logan asks her.
She collects a pawn from its position and places it on a square on the other side of the board.
“You can’t do that!” Thomas throws his hands in the air with frustration.
Logan moves the piece back to an appropriate position. “Macy’s a rebel. She doesn’t like playing by the rules.”
“Pie’s warm!” Annie announces from the kitchen a split second before she appears with a plate, carrying it to Sarah. “Oh, good! You two made it just in time.” But her face is pinched with worry as she appeals silently to me.
My chest aches. I wish there was a way I could help.
“How’re you hanging in there?” I ask Sarah.
“By a very thin thread.” She accepts the plate with a thanks.
“Don’t worry, these little nuggets will be here before you know it.” Annie pats her daughter’s belly.
“Hey, Isla, grab a slice and then take over here for me? We just started.” Logan sets Macy on the floor. “You heard Grammy. Go get your dessert.”
The little girl skitters off to the kitchen.
Logan jerks his head toward the door, his mood suddenly somber.
I nod and follow him out quietly.
We leave the porch around the house, heading toward the quarantine pasture where the new bull grazes. Whatever he has to say, he doesn’t want ears around to hear it.
“You okay?” I finally dare ask.
“Last night, did you know they were going for this warrant?” Golden-hazel eyes search mine.
“No.” I shake my head to emphasize it. “I told you, there is a silo around this case, and I am standing outside it. I would never lie to you. You know that, right?”
His lips purse, but finally he nods. “How worried should we be?”
“I mean, I don’t know. What I do know is Jack left that night at 12:45 a.m. He told them he went straight home and that the company that tracks his vehicle for him ever since his last truck was stolen could confirm that.
We didn’t pursue it because there was no compelling reason to suspect him of anything.
From the time he left the bar that night to his vehicle pulling out was maybe four or five minutes.
Could something have happened between him and Holly in that time frame? ” I shrug. “We didn’t think so, but …”
Logan leans against the fence post, his brow furrowing deeper.
“Jack was supposed to get me in the morning, but Jameson showed up instead. He made some comment about Jack dealing with ex-wife bullshit. He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask.
But what could his ex-wife want at seven o’clock on a Saturday morning? ”
“It seems odd,” I agree. “But Rebecca is a real piece of work.” She used to demand access to his phone and accuse him of cheating if he changed his password.
She stopped taking birth control without telling him, and quit her job the moment she got pregnant, insisting she was high risk, even though there was no medical reason to support that.
Jack moved back with his parents not because he wanted to but because that’s all he could afford.
The truck is technically owned by the Barrows’ farming business.
“Yeah, I’ve heard some of the stories.”
“Did you tell the detectives this?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t remember until today.”
I hesitate. “Do you think it was a lie?”
“I don’t know?” He rubs the back of his neck. “I talked to Jack after they interviewed him and he said that dickhead detective kept circling back, over and over again, asking the smallest, dumbest questions, until Jack finally told him he was done.”
Because Terry was trying to rattle him, catch him in a lie.
“All this because we went fishing that morning? This is nuts! There is no fucking way Jack had anything to do with Holly.”
And yet it’s sounding like Jack is ticking all the boxes. “Whatever he said to the detectives was enough to earn a warrant.”
“Fuck. My family can’t go through anything like this again.” Logan’s voice turns gruff with emotion. “This will break them.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I move in close to lean against his rigid arm, the tension radiating off him. “They haven’t arrested him.” Yet.
“No, he’s just a person of interest. Yesterday, he was a witness. What’s he gonna be tomorrow, huh?”
“That’s only if they find something in his truck or boat. Something to tie him to Holly. Is there any chance at all of that?” I ask it as gently as I can.
“I know he’s picked up women at the Bale House and they’ve gone out back a few times. But they’re grown-ass women, not fifteen-year-old girls. Fuck no, Em. He has a daughter!”
I wish that stopped some of these creeps, but I’ve seen enough to prove that theory wrong.
The bull snorts and kicks at the ground.
Logan notes the keen animal’s reaction and takes a deep, calming breath. But he’s shaking. “It can’t be him, Em. It just can’t.”
“Okay, if it’s not Jack, then it’s someone else.
Someone who drove to Lake Temagami and dumped her.
” Whoever this guy was, he moved fast and didn’t want to be caught.
“Are you sure you didn’t see anything at all when you were there?
Think. Even the smallest detail.” It’s a desperate plea, but seeing Logan so panicked is making my chest ache.
“The detectives already asked me this.” He tosses his hands up in a helpless manner. “I don’t know? We were there to fish! We fished. Didn’t catch anything. Jameson brought a cooler. They fought over Jill’s sandwiches. They were tuna. That’s what I remember. That, and the sun. It was a nice day.”
“And other people?”
He scratches his forehead as he thinks. “There was an old man in a kayak, and a loon that followed us around all morning. There was a shitty old beater sitting in the parking lot, and a couple loading up a pontoon with wood—”
“Wait! Wait …” I cut him off, my mind snagging on something. “Go back. You said a beater.” I’ve heard that word before, and not that long ago.
Logan frowns. “Yeah. It was parked next to Jack’s truck. The thing looked like a road safety hazard.”
“What color was it?”
Logan scowls in thought. “Green? Yeah … it was definitely a weird shade.”
Suspicion slides down my neck like a dribble of cold water. “Did it have duct tape all over its bumper?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “Looked like it was holding the whole thing together.”
“That’s …” My stomach drops with realization. “Oh my God.”
He’s been in front of us this whole time.