who wanted reassurance. “I don’t know,” he said. “But your sister and I, and Sheriff Walker and all his deputies, are going to do everything we can to find the person who hurt her.”
Donna’s eyes met his—sweet, sad eyes. “I like you,” she said.
“I like you, too,” he answered, touched.
“All right, Donna. Quit flirting with Nate so he can get back to work.” Jamie turned the key in the ignition and started the SUV.
“You okay, Jamie?” he asked.
The look she gave him could have lit a campfire. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” she asked. “I’m a deputy. I know how to handle myself.”
“I wasn’t implying you didn’t.” He took a step back. “But this kind of thing shakes up everybody. If you asked the sheriff, he’d probably tell you he’s upset.” At least, Nate had known Travis long enough to recognize the signs that this case was tearing him up inside.
“I’m fine,” Jamie said, not looking at him. “And I need to go.”
Look me in the eye and let me see that you’re really okay, he thought. But he only took another step back and watched as she drove away. Then he walked into the road, to flag down the ambulance he could see in the distance.
JAMIE SHIFTED IN the driver’s seat of the SUV, as uncomfortable as if her clothes were too tight. Nate had looked at her as if he expected her to dissolve into tears at any minute. He ought to know she wasn’t like that. She was tough—and a lot tougher now than she was when they had been a couple. She had had to develop a thick skin to deal with everything life had thrown at her.
She was a sheriff’s deputy, and she had seen dead people before. She wasn’t going to fall apart at the sight of a body. Though she had forgotten to call in the license plate of the car, which she should have done, even if she wasn’t on duty. And she should have stayed and helped process the crime scene.
If she had been a man, would the sheriff have asked her to stay? No, she decided, her gender didn’t have anything to do with this. Travis Walker was as fair a man as she had ever known. But she had had Donna with her. She had to look after her sister, and the sheriff knew that. They had discussed her situation before he hired her. With their parents dead and no other relatives living nearby, Jamie was responsible for Donna, and might be for the rest of her life. While Donna might one day want to live on her own, with some assistance, most programs that would allow that were only available in larger cities—not small towns like Eagle Mountain. As long as Donna wanted to stay in their childhood home, Jamie would do whatever she could to make that happen.
She was happy to take care of her sister, but it meant making certain adjustments. She wasn’t free to go out whenever she liked. She couldn’t be spontaneous, because she had to make sure Donna was safe and looked after. She didn’t think many men her age would be open to that kind of life.
Which was fine. She didn’t need a man to make her complete.
She didn’t need Nate Hall. When his plans changed and he decided to go away for college, he had shed her as easily as if he had been getting rid of last year’s winter coat or a pair of shoes he’d outgrown.
He had told her he loved her, but when you loved someone, you didn’t treat them like you were doing them a favor when you said goodbye.
“I’m hungry. We missed lunch.”
Jamie guessed Donna wasn’t too traumatized, if she was thinking about food. “I’ll make you a sandwich before I drop you off at Mrs. Simmons’s,” she said. “I think there’s still some tuna in the refrigerator. Would you like that?”
“I don’t want to go to Mrs. Simmons’s house,” Donna said. “I want to stay home.”
“I have to work this afternoon,” Jamie said. “And I may be late. You can’t stay in the house by yourself.”
“Why not?” Donna asked. “I know how to dial 911 if something bad happens.”
Jamie tightened her hands on the steering wheel until her knuckles ached. “It’s not safe for you to stay by yourself,” she said. Even if Donna’s mental capacity had matched her physical age, Jamie wouldn’t have wanted to leave her alone. Not with a killer preying on women in Eagle Mountain.
“I’m old enough to stay home by myself,” Donna said.
“Mrs. Simmons’s feelings will be hurt if you don’t stay with her,” Jamie said. For sure, their older neighbor would miss the money Jamie paid her to watch over Donna while Jamie worked.
“You could explain it to her.” But Donna sounded doubtful. She was very sensitive to other people’s feelings—perhaps because her own had been wounded so often by unthinking remarks.
“If you don’t go see her, you’ll miss your shows,” Jamie said. Every afternoon, Mrs. Simmons and Donna watched old sitcoms and dramas on a classic TV station. Since Jamie didn’t subscribe to the expensive cable package required for such programming, Mrs. Simmons was Donna’s only source for her beloved shows.
Donna sighed—a long, dramatic sigh that would have done any teen girl proud. “I guess I had better go, then.”
“Thank you.” Jamie leaned over and squeezed her sister’s arm. “I really appreciate you being so nice about it.”
“What time will you be home?” Donna asked.
“I don’t know. I have this meeting, but if the sheriff wants me to work after that, I will.” She sat up straighter, her next words as much a pep talk for herself as for her sister. “The work I do is important. I’m helping to keep people safe.” Though she and her fellow deputies hadn’t been able to keep Michaela Underwood and the Ice Cold Killer’s other victims safe. The knowledge hurt, and it goaded her to do more. To do better.
“Will you see Nate at the meeting?” Donna asked.
Jamie frowned. “Nate is a wildlife officer—he doesn’t work for the sheriff’s department.”
“He’s nice,” Donna said. “And cute.”
“You think every man you see is cute,” Jamie teased.
“I don’t think Mr. McAdams is cute.” Donna made a face. Mr. McAdams was the meat market manager at Eagle Mountain Grocery. Jamie had to admit he bore a startling resemblance to the photo of last year’s Grand Champion steer that graced the door to the meat freezer at the grocery.
“Is Henry cute?” Jamie asked.
Donna grinned. “Oh, yeah. Henry is cuuuute!” She dissolved into giggles, and Jamie couldn’t help giggling, too. She could never feel gloomy for long when she was with Donna. Her sister had a real gift for bringing joy into the lives of everyone she knew.
They reached home and the dogs piled out of the SUV and raced into the house, then out into the backyard, through the dog door Jamie’s father had installed years before. Three laps around the yard, noses to the ground, then they were back inside, lined up in formation in front of the treat cabinet. “Treat!” Donna proclaimed and took out the bag that held the beloved bacon snacks. She carefully doled out one to each dog, pronouncing “Good dog!” as each treat was devoured.
The next hour passed in a blur of lunch, changing clothes and hustling Donna two houses down to Mrs. Simmons, who met them at the door, a worried expression on her face. “There’s some cookies for you on the table,” Mrs. Simmons said to Donna. “You go get them while I talk to Jamie.”
When Donna had left them, Mrs. Simmons said, keeping her voice low. “I heard they found another woman’s body.”
“Yes.” There was no sense denying it. Half the town listened to the emergency scanner, the way some people listened to music on the radio. “I