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Gervase nodded in grim agreement. “What do you think about heading out to Boston now? I don’t want to waste any time. That girl won’t be really safe until she gives her statement.”
“I agree,” Kennedy said. “And I’m all for driving to Boston immediately.”
Gervase rose. “Boyd, you take West with you and interview this Dr. Kyser. But go easy, for God’s sake. We don’t need someone else threatening us with a lawsuit.”
“Who else is threatening legal action?” Kennedy asked.
“The Madigans. They believe releasing McEnroe was an act of criminal stupidity. They think we’re deliberately dragging our feet bringing their daughter’s killer to justice.”
Kennedy shrugged. “It takes how long it takes.”
“It’s nice you can get some emotional distance,” Gervase said sourly. “Boyd and I don’t have that luxury. We have to live with these folks. They’re frightened and angry, and they want answers.”
“Maybe after we talk to the Davies girl we’ll have some for them.”
When Kennedy and Jason were alone in their office, Kennedy said, “Watch yourself.” His eyes were grave.
“I plan on it.” Jason checked his weapon. He popped the magazine, reaffirmed he had plenty of ammo. Which…since he had not fired a single shot since his last session on the target range should not be a surprise. He replaced the magazine.
When he looked at Kennedy, Kennedy was still regarding him intently. There was something odd about his expression. As though he wanted to say more but couldn’t decide whether to speak.
“Do you think the unsub is going to go after Candy?” Jason asked.
Kennedy said. “Desperate people are dangerous.”
Jason’s shoulder twinged at the reminder. “No kidding,” he said.
* * * * *
“So,” Boxner said. “I guess you and Kennedy are partners in more ways than one.”
Jason had been staring out the passenger side window at the green tangle of woodland flashing past. He turned to study Boxner’s profile.
Boxner was gazing at the road ahead, smiling faintly. His body was relaxed, one arm draped casually over the steering wheel. The epitome of confident masculinity. It was partly façade, but a lot of it was genuine. Boxner was very pleased with the man he’d become. He probably didn’t have a self-doubting cell in his body.
“Sorry. What did you say?”
Great. Just Great. Was there any possibility that SAC Manning would ever have reason to speak to Officer Boyd Boxner?
Boxner said, “You and Kennedy are partners on and off the screen.”
“Nope. This is a temporary assignment,” Jason said.
Boxner laughed. “Is that so? He was sure clucking over you like a hen with one chick yesterday.”
Insulting on so many levels. Also totally stupid. And it would be equally stupid to respond. And yet there had been a moment yesterday when Jason had looked away from the paramedic’s checking-for-concussion routine and caught sight of Kennedy talking to Chief Gervase. Kennedy had glanced over at Jason, and his eyes had blazed electric-blue in his wet and dripping face. There had definitely been emotion there.
Kennedy would take losing—or nearly losing—a partner, even a temporary partner, as a major failure.
Well, who wouldn’t?
Jason drawled, “Yeah, that sure sounds like Kennedy.”
“Oh, he’d have crawled down into that hole after you,” Boxner said. “No question. He doesn’t realize you’re one of the lucky ones.”
“The lucky ones?” Jason asked warily.
“One of those people who always land on their feet. Like a cat. Doesn’t matter how far you drop ’em. They always land upright.”
