Keith takes the steps two at a time and turns back. “You’re clever, Jill. I like that too.”
“Clever?”
“You didn’t come at me with the usual sympathies and platitudes. You were feeling me out first.”
Heat radiates from my neck upward as I imagine doing that. It’s been a while, but Keith is attractive in a unique and rugged way. Not that I’ve thought about feeling him out.
Keith’s eyes soften as his cheeks too turn a shade of pink. “That didn’t come out the way I intended. You were testing the waters before you shared your connection.”
“You can never be too sure,” I say.
“Will I see you at the search?”
“No. I’ll be in Kalamazoo.”
His expression turned quizzical, as if wheels were spinning in his head. “At the hospital?”
“Yes. Julie is my sister.”
“Jill.” His eyes open wide. “Shit. You’re Jillian Thorne.”
“I am.”
Keith takes a deep breath. “Well, fuck me. That makes...” He appears to collect himself. “Miss Thorne, I sincerely hope your sister recovers from whatever happened and that one day she can help with findingher friend.”
The small lightning rods are again on alert. What exactly does he know about me or Julie’s injuries? I stay even keeled. “That’s what we want, Detective, for both girls to be home safe.”
“Thanks for the conversation. I understand if it’s our last.”
I shake my head. “I hope it’s not.”
“Have a good day, Miss Thorne.”
Chapter
Eighteen
My conversation with Keith replays in my head as I finish breakfast and shower. At a little after ten and ready for the hospital, I call Echo. As the phone rings, I’m reminded of the time difference. I’m not certain she is expecting a call at seven in the morning, but since I don’t want to be a slave to my phone while with Julie and the rest of the family, I let it ring.
“Shit, Jill. We need you back on West Coast time,” Echo’s voice comes after a few rings.
“Good morning to you.”
“I’m sitting here with an espresso,” she says, “fill me in. We have meetings all day. In all honesty, I’m glad you called early.”
I’m pacing the living room of the cabin, my stomach in knots. This conversation would be easier if I was a bit more transparent from the get-go. “Echo, I need to stay here for a while longer.”
“How long? And what do you have on the homicide?”
“I’m not exactly sure. Like I told you, if I stay longer than Memorial Day weekend, I’ll need a new place to stay. The cottage is booked for the rest of the summer. Here’s the thing I didn’t mention: the town I’m in is Blue Gil, Michigan. It’s my hometown.”
“And Craig Gilbert is the high school’s football coach.”
My heart rate kicks up as I grip the phone. “Wasthe coach.”
She scoffs. “Right,wasthe coach.”
“Echo, I didn’t tell you this was my hometown.”
