Chapter Thirteen
By the time the sky started to pale, Asa’s hand had gone numb. He realized it when he tried to flex his fingers and felt pins and needles shoot up his forearm. He blinked the grit from his eyes and looked down.
Maya’s smaller hand was still wrapped in his.
Sometime in the night, she’d turned on her side, her hair spilling across the pillow, her face relaxed in a way he hadn’t seen since he’d come back to the island. No flinch, no tightness around her mouth. Just . . . sleep. Uneven, probably. Fragile but real.
He eased his fingers free, careful not to wake her. She murmured something he couldn’t make out and shifted, but her breathing stayed steady.
Thank You. The words slid through his mind before he could stop them. Not polished. Not pretty. Just a quiet flare of relief.
He straightened from the chair, his back protesting, and moved to the door. The hallway was dim, lit by a single bulb over the tiny table where someone had left a half-empty coffee cup and a stack of incident reports.
JT’s handwriting. Asa recognized the messy scrawl even from here.
He stepped into the hall, pulling the bedroom door almost shut behind him, leaving it open a crack the way he’d found it last night.
Rachel snored softly on the couch in the living room, one arm flung over her head, a blanket kicked half to the floor. JT sat in the armchair opposite, boots braced on the coffee table, a mug in one hand and his phone in the other.
His eyes cut up the second Asa appeared. “Morning, sunshine, or whatever this qualifies as.”
Asa scrubbed a hand over his face, ignoring the ribbing. “What’s the latest?”
“Will rotated with one of his guys around three,” JT said. “No more shots. No movement in the trees on the thermal. Tracks we had last night are mostly blown over now, but we got decent photos before the wind kicked up.”
“Did you find his vehicle?” Asa asked.
“None that we could find,” JT said. “Whoever fired those rounds stayed on foot or parked farther out and walked in along the tree line. No tire impressions near the lane that don’t match known vehicles.”
Of course, the killer hadn’t made it easy.
“He was making a point,” Asa said. “He wanted her to hear that shot and remember.”
“And?” JT asked.
Asa thought of Maya’s whispered words in the dark. Vanessa. Her mother’s voice. The way she’d described the killer’s boots, his hands, the smell of metal and chemical cleaner. “She remembered,” he said. “More than before. Enough to give us her mother’s name. Vanessa Warren.”
Something flickered behind JT’s eyes. “That’s big.”
“Big and twenty-five years late, but I’ll take it. I’m hoping we have enough to identify Maya and Vanessa and maybe figure out who the killer is.”
JT nodded slowly.
“Maya crashed hard after we talked,” Asa said, rubbing his eyes.
“Good. That’s the best thing for her.” JT took a sip of coffee. “What about you? You get any sleep?”
“Some.” He’d dozed off and on. “We need information,” Asa said. “Something concrete.”
“Adoption records were sealed, but Will believes that with Maya’s permission, we should be able to view hers.”
It was something. “I hope it reveals more than what we know right now.” Asa stared out the window before turning back to JT.
JT smiled. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up. There was no record of Vanessa Warren in the police report, and until now, we had no idea of her name.
Whatever Raymond was investigating, he did his best to protect Vanessa and Maya.
Unfortunately, that probably made it harder to identify them.
” JT tipped his head. “Will’s not going to love the idea of moving her around after last night’s show. ”
“He’s really not going to love us sitting in this cottage waiting for the next round, either,” Asa said. “We can’t keep reacting. We need to push back. That means following the paper trail while we still have momentum.”
JT studied him for a beat before sighing. “Fine. I need to stretch my legs anyway.” He stood, his joints popping, and headed for the door.
Will Kelly’s cruiser idled at the top of the lane, exhaust puffing in the cold.
Asa could just make out the police chief’s silhouette through the windshield.
Asa poured himself a cup of coffee and glanced back toward the cracked bedroom door.
Maya hadn’t stirred. He wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.
A few hours later, Asa looked up from his conversation with the Hope Island Securities team to see Maya.
She appeared in the hallway doorway, hair pulled into a quick knot, wearing one of the Hope Island PD sweatshirts Will kept in his trunk for emergencies and the same jeans from yesterday. Her face looked drawn, with dark circles under her eyes, but her gaze was clear.
“Has someone died?” she asked, voice low. “Because the faces you’re all making say someone died.”
“Just our usual grim expressions, I guess.” Asa went over to the coffeemaker to refill his cup. “Want some coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She accepted the mug he held out. “What’s going on?” she asked, curling her fingers around the cup’s warmth.
Will stepped in from the back porch, snow clinging to his jacket. He took it off and hung it on a nearby hook. “Morning, all. It’s cold out there.” He blew on his hands before his attention homed in on Maya. “Feel up to a field trip?”
Startled, her gaze flicked to Asa. “To where?”
“The adoption agency your parents used,” Asa told her. “We want to take a look at your records. Hopefully, there’s something useful in them.”
“What if they don’t contain anything?” Maya asked. “Or they can’t tell us because of all the confidentiality rules?”
“You’re an adult now, and Will’s gotten you access to your records,” Asa told her.
She swallowed, still without speaking.
“My concern is,” Will cut in, “Moving you after last night’s drive-by.”
“It wasn’t a drive-by,” Maya said. “He didn’t drive by. He lingered.”
Will scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Granted, but having you out in the public at a location that we haven’t had time to lock down is dangerous. The more you move, the more opportunities he gets.”
“And the longer we sit still, the more he writes the script,” Asa said, trying to keep his tone even.
“We’re not taking her to a shopping mall, Will.
This is a controlled visit to a state-licensed agency with security and records that might tell us who Vanessa was before she stepped onto that boat. ”
Will’s eyes darted between them, his gaze landing on Maya last. “What do you want?” he asked her.
Silence stretched.
Maya’s shoulders squared a fraction. “I want answers,” she said. “I want to know who my mother was. Where she came from. What she was running from. If there’s even a chance that file can give us any of that, then I don’t want to hide in here while he takes potshots at the walls.”
Will exhaled through his nose. “I figured you’d say that. Okay, but we do this my way.”
Maya’s gaze flicked toward Asa, then back to Will. “Okay.”
“Good.” Will clapped his hat back on his head. “We leave in thirty. Everybody grab food, bathroom breaks, and anything you’d regret not having with you. That includes extra ammo, Dutton.”
Asa almost smiled. “Yes, Dad.”
Will glared at him, but the corner of his mouth twitched.