the one who stood outside the trailer. His smooth transition between hostility toward West and concern for Tina set off all West’s internal alarms. Not to mention how precisely his behavior had mimicked the day’s crimes. A cold-blooded murder outside the medical complex, and a thoughtfully planned meal at Tina’s home.
West folded himself behind the wheel and radioed their position to Dispatch.
He reversed down the gravel drive and pulled onto the country road, making plans to run a thorough background check on Mr. Morgan.
“Was that phone call back at the trailer more bad news?” Tina asked. “Did something else happen?”
“No. That was one of my deputies. Mary and Lily are doing fine. He’s patrolling the neighborhood until you can get there, making a circuit and keeping watch on the streets around her home. If you don’t see him when you arrive to pick Lily up, wait for him. He’ll be back on his next loop, then he can follow you to your place and wait while you get Ducky.”
Tina nodded slowly. “Will the deputy stay with me until I decide where to go? How much time do I have to decide?”
“I asked him to process your home while he’s there, so you can take a minute to breathe, but limit the number of things you touch. I’m hoping he can get a good print from that dinner setup in the kitchen. My other men are finishing up at the medical complex, then following leads on the shooter and faded red pickup seen leaving the scene. Tucker Bixby wasn’t home when Cole got there, so Cole’s looking into his whereabouts. I imagine you’d like to get to your daughter now.”
Tina blew out a long, labored breath. “Yes. Very much.”
“I’ll take you back to your car now,” West said. He fished a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it her way.
She accepted the offering and pressed it to the corner of each eye. She twisted the thin white fabric in her hands. “I can’t believe you still carry this.”
“Grandpa’s handkerchief? We all do. I’m a little surprised you remember it.”
Tina rolled wide eyes in his direction. “I remember that funeral like it was my own grandfather’s. I remember each of your brothers with these hankies in their jacket pockets. Four brokenhearted pallbearers.” She balled the fabric in one hand. “Hundreds of people came that day and filled every moment with love and kindness.” She swiped a tear off her cheek. “It was beautiful. He would’ve been so proud.”
“I’m sure he was.” West turned his face to the road. “Grandpa told us regularly how important it was to build relationships. He touched a lot of lives.” Next to his father, West’s grandfather was the best man he’d ever known. His brothers and uncles came in a tight cluster for third. Love, pride and honor were always on tap at the Garrett house. “You okay?”
“I will be.”
He tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel. “I hate to push this, but I still need a formal statement. You promised to write it while we were en route, and we’re nearly back to your car.”
Tina pulled the notepad and pen from her purse and began to write. Tears fell in fat drops onto the page as she worked.
West kept his mouth shut as long as possible, but he hated seeing her cry. “How did you feel that interview with Carl went?” he asked. “Is he always so...” What was the word? She surely wouldn’t approve of creepy.
She wiped the wet paper with his hanky. “I don’t know.”
“Based on your description before we got there, I’d expected a television-grade nerd or a little harmless guy afraid to make eye contact.” Not the lean and borderline hostile man who’d answered the door.
“Whose fault is that?”
He ignored the question. West had heard it from her before, and the answer was always West’s. Making assumptions might not have been his best attribute, but as a sheriff the practice had proven indispensable more times than he could count. “Do you think he had a problem with you spending extra time with Steven?”
“No. That’s standard practice. Carl’s been with the group long enough to know that.”
“Do all the members have the same problems?”
Tina shot him a knowing look. She’d already made it clear she wouldn’t divulge her patients’ personal information. “They’re all dealing with PTSD and severe emotional trauma for various reasons. Some members are former military. Some are abuse survivors.”
“How did you spend the extra time you had with Steven?”
Tina sighed. “Occasionally I’d use the time to educate and encourage. Other times, he’d tell me things he wasn’t ready to share with the group. It was all very up-and-up.”
West repositioned his grip on the wheel, relaxing his hands and leaning back against the seat. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”
“You didn’t. I just want it stated for the record.”
He cocked a brow. “This isn’t going on a record. We’re just two old friends talking.”
She turned her face to his, a sad smile on her full pink lips. “Is that what we are, West?”
“I’m not sure what we are now,” he admitted, “but I was engaged once to a girl who looked a lot like you.”
She dropped her gaze to the handkerchief briefly before pinning him with a powerful stare. “I’m not that girl anymore.”
“No,” he agreed. “Clearly, that girl has been upgraded by time and experience.” He reached across the seat to give her knee a playful push. “I think the girl I knew would be proud.”
A smile bloomed on her lips. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I meant it.”
She caught his fingers in hers and squeezed. “I know.”
West released her to pull his cruiser into the lot outside her office.
The crime scene was roped off now, and two members of his team worked their way through a rain-soaked lot, careful not to miss anything that might lead them to the shooter’s identity. Plastic yellow teepees with bold black numbers anchored the shattered glass and polka-dotted the surrounding area.
Tina shuddered beside him.
“I’ll be by to check on you and Lily as soon as I can, but I’m going to pay the hospital pharmacist a visit now.” The one who’d asked her out multiple times during her pregnancy. “What did you say his name was?”
“Chris.”
West itched to tighten his fingers around hers once more, but he wasn’t sure how many times he could force himself to let go.
Tina rolled her head against the back of the seat, turning sharp blue eyes on him. “Tell me this wasn’t because someone thought I was spending too much extra time with Steven.” Her body tipped slightly toward his. The change was small, nearly imperceptible. So much so, Tina probably didn’t even realize. But West did.
He felt the too-familiar pull at his core, an urge to meet her in the middle.
No amount of time would change that about them. He and Tina were human magnets in need of connection. Being near her without being hers was a new and ugly sensation. He didn’t like it.
West cleared his throat. “We’ll know more soon.” His thoughts drifted back to Carl Morgan. The timing of Carl’s absence with the shooting today was highly suspicious, and West didn’t like the way Carl had looked at Tina. Definitely not the way a patient should look at his therapist, and it had taken all of West’s self-control not to smack Carl’s grubby hand away when he’d reached for her arm. The look in Carl’s eyes when she recoiled was satisfying, but delivering the weirdo a solid right hook would’ve been even better. “We’ll