by Karis Walsh
Coming from anyone besides a team member, Abby would have suspected a hidden motive behind the offer. A motive based directly on Kira’s beauty. But Abby knew the gesture was made because of Billie’s connection to her, to Abby. She had come to Billie for this same reason—because she was beginning to feel connected, too. Able to ask for help, for something personal. She was getting too close to too many people, but this time she’d allow herself to accept an overture of friendship from someone at work. For Kira.
“Thank you, Billie. I appreciate this.” She put the folded piece of paper in her breast pocket and pulled out her phone when it began to buzz almost simultaneously. She checked the name of the caller and quickly answered. “Detective Carter. Any leads?”
“We have a possible ID on a car in the alley. It’s a long shot, possibly from well before the murder, but I called Ms. Lovell in to listen to some audio samples. She’ll be here tomorrow afternoon. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Thanks for keeping me in the loop,” Abby said. She ended the call and tapped the phone against her chin.
“A break in the case?” Billie asked.
“It doesn’t sound too promising, but at least it’s something. He’s having Kira come in tomorrow afternoon to check it out.”
Billie nodded with a shrewd expression. “Tomorrow. This meeting wouldn’t happen to interfere with our demo ride, would it?”
Abby frowned. Was she so transparent? Or was Billie actually a mind reader? “The two might be at roughly the same time.”
“Of course you’ll want to be there for her. Don’t worry about skipping the ride. Don has organized a routine for tomorrow, and the rest of us will only need to do a short ride. We’ll be fine without you for one day.”
Abby was caught on the first sentence, realizing she couldn’t let Kira think she was being chaperoned. She’d have to find an excuse to be at the station at the same time. A coincidence, not control.
“Thank you, Billie. I want to be…Wait, Don is planning a routine? On Fancy?”
“Yes. He’s been working on it for days. Don’t worry, it’ll be fun for the audience.”
Fun. The demonstration was supposed to be professional. She didn’t want Don turning it into a circus act with his beloved, but scraggly pinto. She frowned at Billie. Since joining the unit, Billie and Don had become—oddly enough—good friends despite their differences in age, temperament, background…basically every trait. Of course she’d stick up for him, no matter what bizarre show he was planning. “What exactly is he going to do?”
“Sorry, Lieutenant. I’m sworn to secrecy,” Billie said. She made a motion of locking her lips shut, and then retreated into Ranger’s stall. “All I can say is that he won’t embarrass you or the team.”
Abby was still doubtful, but she gave up on her interrogation and left the barn. Billie would never crack, anyway. She hesitated by the door to the 4-H barn and peeked around the corner. Kira was sitting on her bucket again, leaning back against the barn wall with her eyes closed. Nirvana’s stall door was open, but Abby couldn’t see either her or Julie from this angle. She stared at Kira for a few more minutes, noticing the signs of fatigue in her posture and lowered head. Let Don and Fancy perform the Macarena in the ring tomorrow if they wanted to—she didn’t care. She’d be at the station with Kira.
Chapter Eleven
Kira parked in the public lot in front of the police department headquarters and pushed through the large glass door. She felt a perplexing cascade of emotions when she saw Abby standing at the desk chatting with another officer. She wanted to attribute her feelings to surprise, but why should she be startled to see Abby here, where she worked? She was happy to see her, even after Abby had tried to bulldoze her the day before, but there was something deeper than that. Desire, yes. Vulnerability? Definitely. Too much to process.
“Hi, Abby,” she said briefly before addressing the officer on duty. “I’m Kira Lovell. Detective Carter is expecting me.”
“I’ll show you the way,” Abby said once she had her visitor’s pass. When the door buzzed, Abby held it open for Kira and followed her through. “That is, unless you think I’m being too bossy?”
“Ha-ha,” Kira said. She tried to look stern, but she couldn’t help but answer the hint of a smile on Abby’s face. “I’m not going to apologize for what I said yesterday. You should have backed off and let me handle the situation with Dale, and I was right to point it out to you. So don’t sulk.”
“I do not sulk,” Abby said in an indignant tone. “I merely hold grudges for an extended period of time.”
Kira laughed and jabbed Abby with her elbow. “It’s a very attractive trait.”
“I know. I’m irresistible to the ladies.”
I’ll bet you are. Abby’s voice was self-deprecating and humorous, but Kira knew—based on her own reaction to Abby—that the words were all too true.
“Thank you for giving Julie some pointers before her class yesterday,” Kira said, changing the subject and hoping to get the image of Abby with other women out of her head. “She looked great out there, and hunt seat usually isn’t her strong point. She doesn’t always have the patience for it.”
“I had fun coaching her, but she did all the work. As she gets older, she’ll be able to focus better. Riding in these equitation classes takes discipline.”
“I’ll bet you had more than your share of self-discipline even as a preteen,” Kira said. Abby laughed and shrugged but didn’t refute her statement. Kira had watched Julie struggle to maintain her concentration and work on her riding position when she often just wanted to go on trail rides and have fun. Kira tried to help her find a balance so she was progressing, but still enjoying her favorite pastime. “She’s improved over the past year—not just in her lessons but in school and at home. She wants to do well and she understands the effort required.”
Kira paused. She had been proud of Julie this last year, and of herself as well. She’d been strong enough to get away from Dale when she had nowhere else to turn. She’d rebuilt the life Dale had taken away from her and was in the process of rebuilding herself. Both she and Julie had flourished as they met and conquered challenges head-on. “You were part of it, in a way,” she said. “I spent the past year wishing I had the chance to thank Nirvana’s anonymous donor. Now I have the opportunity, but I’m having trouble finding the right words.”
Abby stopped and faced her. “No need. The look on Julie’s face when she’s with her is thanks enough.”
“Yes, she loves Nirvana, but it’s deeper than that,” Kira said. Over the past week with Abby, Kira had been forced to dredge up past memories. She had expected pain, but instead she was feeling a sense of healing—the distance of time, perhaps? And Abby’s understanding, nonjudgmental attitude when she listened—they hadn’t known each other long, but Abby seemed to be on Kira’s side. “We were both lost when I finally made the choice to get away from Dale. I had tried a few times before, but she’d managed to coerce and convince and cajole until I came back. She was never abusive to Julie, instead they practically ignored each other, but Julie changed while we were living with her. I didn’t realize how much until we were out of the house.”
Abby reached over and squeezed her hand briefly. “I have no doubt that you’d have left sooner if Julie had been in danger.”
Kira agreed, but she still harbored secret guilt for letting the situation go on as long as it had. Two years of their lives, wasted. Dale had provided well for Julie, compensating for Kira’s meager income from her unglamorous career saving wetlands, and she had thought the financial benefits outweighed the emotional upheaval Kira was experiencing. She had also thought Julie was doing well and was happy with her private school and her nice clothes. When they left, Julie had given all of it up without a murmur of complaint.
“You’re right. She wasn’t thriving, but she wasn’t in danger. As soon as I thought she might be, we were out of there. But back to Nirvana. She rescued us. I still don’t kn
ow why you gave her to Julie, or how you knew about us at all, but I’m grateful you did.” Kira hesitated again and searched for the right phrasing. “Julie is devoted to that mare. She gave her direction and purpose when we were going through so many changes. She brought the two of us closer together since I got involved in the 4-H group. She was good for me, too. I don’t think Julie realizes this, but just being around animals and spending time outside was very…restorative.”
“She understands,” Abby said. “She wrote about it in her essay.”
Kira stared at Abby in surprise. “She did? She wouldn’t let me read it. What did she say?”
“She talked about how hard you work to protect the environment and how you’ve been an influence on the way she sees her world. She wrote about how much it meant for the two of you to spend time together close to nature, and that having a horse of her own would be a way of connecting with you and the earth.”
Kira blinked away tears at Julie’s perceptive statements. She hadn’t realized Julie was aware of the broader meaning of their time together, but her daughter never failed to surprise. “She can be a little melodramatic at times, but she’s spot-on. You did something very special when you gave her to us, so thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Abby brushed her thumb over Kira’s cheek. Her touch was as soothing as Tad’s had been unwelcome on the same part of her face. One cutting her open, the other sealing her shut. “Your skin is already less red. In a few days, you won’t be able to see any of the reminders of that night.”
Kira couldn’t meet Abby’s eyes after the tender way she touched her. Abby was talking about her chafed mouth after her ordeal with Tad, but Kira felt the old, remembered wound start to close as well. She held her hands in front of her and looked at the divots from the zip ties. “The memories won’t fade as fast, but they’ll go away, too, eventually.”
“If they don’t, tell me,” Abby said. She hesitated for a long moment before continuing. “I have a…friend who knows firsthand about dealing with bad memories. I’m sure she’d be willing to talk to you. Come on, let’s see what Carter wants.”
Abby started walking again, toward the conference room where she’d seen Carter this morning. She had been fighting the growing attachment between herself and her team, but she knew without a doubt that Billie would be someone Kira could talk to about healing after a trauma. She would understand what Kira might experience in the days and weeks to come.
“Cozy place you’ve got here,” Kira said as she looked around the sparse station. “Very warm and inviting.”
“We don’t encourage visitors,” Abby said with a laugh. She liked the new industrial-style building, with its open floor plan and gleaming metal accents. Everything was bright and light, from the white tile floors to the high, fluorescent-lit ceilings. It encouraged distance and muted voices. “It’s a green building, though, so it should appeal to you.”
“I like that aspect, but function without form isn’t always the way to go.”
“I happen to like the aesthetics of the place,” Abby said. She was in the minority with her opinion, but she stood by it. “We’re here to work. The old station downtown had too many private rooms and empty corridors. Here, everyone can see what’s going on. Who’s visiting whose office.”
“So, no more secrets and subterfuge?”
“Oh, they’re still everywhere around here,” Abby said. She opened the door to a room furnished with a black Formica table and a half dozen gray plastic chairs. “But now we have to work harder to keep them hidden.”
Kira laughed and followed her into the room. Carter got out of his chair and came to greet them.
“Lieutenant. Good to see you again, Ms. Lovell. Thank you for coming back so quickly.”
“Any more information on the case, Bryan?” Abby asked.
He motioned toward the table where he had placed a small recorder and a file folder. “We found a couple of witnesses to the gunshot last night. Neither reported it, but they heard it and were accurate enough with their times. One of them lives in an apartment overlooking the alley, and he looked outside a few minutes after and saw a car driving away. Ms. Lovell, I have some recordings of car engines. If you’ll listen to them, one might jog your memory. You might have heard the car without registering that you did.”
“Sure. I’ll try.”
“I need to finish some work in my office,” Abby said. “Why don’t you come say good-bye when you’re done here?”
Kira nodded and Abby left the room. She looked back from the doorway, but Kira seemed relaxed enough as she sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs. Abby figured she wouldn’t want her to hover, so she climbed the clear staircase and unlocked her office door. The second- and third-floor rooms ringed the large open space in the center, and she could open her door and see most of the activity in the building if she wanted to. Usually, she didn’t. She left her office door open today, though, so Kira could find her.
Abby sat at her desk and turned on her computer. She was glad Bryan had called her to keep her updated on the case and to let her know Kira would be coming in to see him. She wanted to be here in case Kira’s talk with the detective stirred up too many memories. Just a courtesy to her, and nothing more.
One week. Abby toyed with the hole-punch on her desk until it was neatly lined up between her computer and the phone. She’d only known Kira in person for a little over a week, but their interchanges had run the gamut from a frivolous conversation over barbecue to a rehashing of Kira’s night of abduction and homicide. Extremes. Abby had recognized the potential intensity of a relationship with Kira from the start. She was attracted to her in a way she’d never before experienced. She was connected to Kira through her family, from the shame engendered by her brother’s actions and by her own attempts to rectify them. She understood the complexity from Kira’s side, too. Her past. Dale and Rick. Her need to protect her daughter from the physical and emotional forces she’d encountered far too often.
Only one week, but Kira had burrowed deep into Abby’s life. Right now, on a single afternoon, she was choosing Kira over her team and her brother. Abby slid the hole-punch to the other side of her computer. It flipped over the lip of her desk pad and tiny white circles dropped out. After Kira’s terrifying night, she deserved whatever considerations and allowances Abby could give, and she couldn’t ignore the way Rick’s fingerprints seemed to be all over this crime, but she couldn’t get in the habit of putting Kira before everything important to her.
One week, and Kira would be out of her life. The fairgrounds would be empty except for windblown burger wrappers and ride tickets. Not even an echo of steel horseshoes on the bare concrete barn aisles. Kira, Nirvana, and Julie would be home again. Abby would be back at work here in her office, keeping tabs on the mounted unit through Rachel’s emails, and poring over her grandfather’s indiscretions whenever she had a spare moment.
She scooped up the spilled paper circles and tossed them in the empty garbage can next to her desk. She’d miss Kira, but she’d be better off when her life regained the equilibrium she’d come to rely on. She’d miss her team, but she’d have the memories of riding with them and the pride she felt in their accomplishments.
Unless, of course, Don’s demonstration was such a fiasco the entire unit was disbanded. Always a possibility. Abby turned to her computer and tried to erase the images of Fancy wearing a frilly pink skirt and jumping through a hoop. Don knew she’d kill him if he did anything to make the unit look foolish, didn’t he? Maybe she should send him a text…
But Billie wouldn’t lie to her, and Rachel could handle the demo rides without her input. Kira was right—she had a hard time letting go of control. She would let her team do its job and she’d let Kira run her own life, as soon as this case was over. For now, though, if her brother was involved in the shooting or had played a part in the kidnapping, she sure as hell was going to be right in the middle of things. She’d give her brother the benefit of the doubt—even a
Hargrove was innocent until proven guilty, after all, but she had to make sure Rick wouldn’t be a danger to Kira. Then she’d back her bossy self out of the picture and let everyone do as they damned well pleased.
She searched records for Tad Milford and found only one reference to him, in a report about a suspected DUI from a few years earlier. He had destroyed some property, a neighbor’s parked motorcycle, but he had never been charged with drunk driving. His breathalyzer test had been inconclusive and no witnesses had come forward at his court hearing. The primary officer—surprise, surprise—had been Richard Hargrove. Abby could fill in the gaps missing from the inexplicably vague report. Tad had probably paid his neighbor handsomely for his bike and his promise not to testify. Rick had somehow managed to recalibrate the breathalyzer so the results couldn’t be used in court. In exchange for what? Abby couldn’t remember when her mom had first mentioned Rick’s real-estate development investments, but Abby had a feeling they had started about four years ago, soon after this DUI.
Interesting stuff, but not much use to her. It established a possible timeline for the origin of her brother’s relationship with Tad Milford, but they could have been working together before the accident happened. Either way, Rick had done Tad a favor and gotten him off the hook for a DUI. She wondered if her brother would have done the same thing if Tad had hit a person instead of the parked motorcycle. She hoped not, but she wouldn’t bet money on it. She was about to close the report when she noticed a link to a secondary one that had been filed by the other officer on the scene. She opened it and skimmed the information. There were a couple of witness statements that had conveniently been left out of Rick’s official report. Neither witness had shown up for court. One was a teenaged boy who had been playing basketball near the entrance to the community when Tad came in at high speed.
The other was Dale Burke. Accused’s stepsister and passenger in his vehicle.
