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His wife.
I checked my phone and saw it was the thirteenth. Ah…that explained it. Emmy-Lee had died in a tragic accident ten years ago today, and he was obviously feeling it hard.
“I’ll check back in a little later,” I told Daisy as we pulled from the curb, since Sienna was in danger of being late to her first day if we didn’t get going.
“What happened to his wife? I didn’t even know he’d ever been married,” Sienna murmured as soon as the window was rolled up. Her eyes were still fixed on the rearview mirror, like she couldn’t shake the sight of him falling apart.
I sighed as we turned onto the next street. “His wife died in an accident ten years ago today. A spooked mare threw her, and she got trampled. Harvey was riding with her and had to watch the whole thing. He couldn’t save her.”
I swallowed hard, the words tasting like ash.
“He actually used to be pretty normal before that, if you can believe it. Loss like that…it doesn’t kill you. It just hollows you out and leaves the shell walking around, pretending to be whole. My dad was the same,” I said quietly as I traced slow circles on her thigh.
“After my mother died…there was always something broken about him. Like part of him got buried with her and never came back. He functioned—ran the ranch, occasionally raised me—but you could see it in his eyes. They were empty. He was stuck waiting for a forever that wasn’t coming.”
Sienna went quiet after that, her mouth parting slightly before she closed it again, her expression shifting as she searched for something to say and came up short.
“I saw her,” Sienna finally said softly. “Your mother.”
My grip tightened on the wheel. “You saw her?”
“In the files,” she added, glancing at me. “Her obituary. And the article behind it.” A small pause. “It said she…killed herself.”
Everything in me went still. For a second, I wasn’t on the road anymore. I was back in that hallway, the wood cold under my bare feet, the door at the end of it shut tight.
My mother’s voice on the other side, frayed and breaking apart at the edges. I can’t stop. I can’t stop. I’m never going to get better.
My father’s voice followed, lower, trying to hold something together that had already come undone. I couldn’t make out every word, only the rhythm of it—his voice trying to reason with her, to pull her back…then everything went wrong at once.
His voice broke into a sharp, desperate “No!” and the gunshot that followed tore through the walls, loud enough to rattle the house, close enough that it felt like it had gone off inside my chest, the silence after swallowing everything else whole.
I blinked…and the road snapped back into place in front of me, trees flashing past in a blur of green and shadow. My jaw set, my lips pressing together for a beat before I forced my breathing to even out. “She was sick,” I said, my voice somehow steady. “Just…never figured out the cure.”
Giving in.
Sienna’s hand covered mine, and she squeezed, her touch grounding me as old ghosts continued to stir. I glanced over at her, tracing every feature on her gorgeous face.
Maybe all of that was why I was so wild about her. Why I was clinging so hard, loving her so fiercely…refusing to let her slip even an inch away.
“You’d better get in there,” I murmured, leaning over to brush a quick kiss across her lips, careful to stay in my seat since she’d very firmly banned me from walking her inside like a deranged escort.
She took a deep breath and grinned nervously, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “If I come home speaking exclusively in legal jargon and citing statutes at dinner, just nod and pretend you understand.”
“Deal,” I said easily. I’d agree to just about anything that made her light up like this and tied her a little tighter to Blackwood.
I watched her walk in and then went to park the truck in front of Dot’s so I could watch her for the rest of the day obsessively.
CHAPTER 39
SIENNA
Of course my first real assignment a few days into the job involved the Serial Killer Museum.
Peggy, the current owner, wanted to go over vendor contracts. And that was normal. Totally normal. Nothing said “welcome back to law” like homicide memorabilia.
The sign above the door smiled down at me like it knew things.
My stomach tightened.
