He thought about telling her then. About Lila Grant. About the photographs. About the storm gathering just beyond the edges of this perfect, fragile moment.
But Eleanor was smiling in a way he hadn’t seen in years, her eyes still bright from Calloway and hope and the dangerous possibility of happiness.
Deck couldn’t bring himself to be the one to take that away. Not yet.
She leaned into his touch for a heartbeat, blinking against the sudden sting in her eyes.
“Don’t go getting sentimental on me,” she managed.
“Too late,” he said, his voice dry but not unkind. “Both of you are a lost cause. Now, are we going to stand here until the mosquitoes carry us off, or are we going to look at these files?”
Eleanor laughed, the sound unsteady but real, and wiped a stray bit of moisture from her eye. She took one last look down the street, where the taillights of the Jaguar were disappearing into the mountain mist—a fading red glow in the dark.
“Let’s get to work.”
As they moved into the house, the gold light of the porch spilled out behind them, a warm barrier against the shadows of the woods. For the first time in a very long time, the future didn’t feel like something she had to brace against.
It felt like something she might actually get to keep.
43
Riverbend Greenway — Late Afternoon
Riverbend looked nothing like it had eight years ago.
Where there had once been red clay and unfinished foundations, there were now quiet streets lined with custom homes. Trees separated the lots, and a walking trail curved through the development toward a small dog park at the far end of the greenway.
Deputy Luke Hale stood beside the tailgate of his patrol truck, watching a man walk two labs along the trail.
Hard to imagine someone burying a body here.
Deputy Jenkins clipped Ruger’s lead onto the harness. The big German Shepherd shifted beside him, alert but patient.
Luke glanced toward the tree line. “You really think this is worth chasing?”
Jenkins shrugged. “Ex-girlfriend says Mercer told her he buried Caroline out here.”
“People get mad,” Jenkins said. “They talk.”
Luke shook his head. “Or they decide it’s time to settle old scores.”
He looked across the neighborhood again. “Still… Burke’s right. Can’t ignore it.”
A cruiser rolled slowly down the street and pulled in behind them.
Sheriff Burke Scott stepped out, Scout Wilson climbing from the passenger side. Burke opened the rear door, and a second German Shepherd jumped down onto the pavement.
Rosie.
Older than Ruger but steady, watching everything.
Scout rubbed her ears briefly. “Ready to work?”
Rosie’s tail moved once.
Burke walked over to Luke and Jenkins. “Anyone ask what we’re doing out here?”
“Training exercise,” Luke said. “That’s what the HOA heard.”
