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“Didn’t you already do that? Has something happened?” Kristina quizzed.

“We’ve been through this already.” Declan waved a dismissive hand.

“And yet the killer hasn’t been found,” Hale said mildly. “We want to do everything we can to help the Tillamook County Sheriff’s Department catch them,” he said for his grandfather’s benefit.

“I don’t even want to talk about it,” Kristina said with a shudder. “We’re having a baby. That’s what we should concentrate on.”

“You are right, honey,” Declan agreed. “That’s what’s important. My great-grandson and my grandsons. That’s what matters. That’s what counts.”

“Grandson,” Hale reminded. “I’m your only one.”

“What did I say?” Declan asked.

“Leave him alone, Hale,” Kristina admonished, turning to Savannah, who was heading toward the door. “Are you finished?”

“When Ella brings me the photocopies,” Savvy responded.

Hale beat Savannah to the door and pulled it open again. Ella was just returning from the copy room, and Sylvie, back from her break, had reached the top step.

“Here you go,” Ella said as she handed Savvy the files with a challenging lift of her chin, clearly feeling Savvy’s investigation was a heinous and traitorous act.

“Wha’d I miss?” Sylvie asked.

“A Bancroft family reunion,” Hale said dryly.

“Your mother isn’t here,” Declan said.

“Janet lives in Philadelphia and probably wouldn’t show, anyway,” Kristina answered for him.

Hale didn’t feel like talking about his mother, who had divorced his father when Hale was eighteen, and had moved away. Preston St. Cloud’s health had failed following the divorce, and he’d slowly declined until his death. End of story.

At the mezzanine Savannah suddenly stiffened and leaned forward a bit, dropping a hand to her belly.

“What is it?” Hale demanded.

“More Braxton Hicks. I’ve been having them on and off for weeks,” she said.

“False labor,” Kristina called from inside the office.

“Yes . . .” After a moment, Savannah collected herself and said, “I’m heading to Portland next to check with your office there. I understand some of your employees used to work here in Seaside.”

“A number of them,” Hale agreed.

“You can’t go to Portland,” Kristina declared, coming to stand in the office doorway. “You’re . . .”

“Pregnant. I know.” Savannah nodded. “It’ll just be a day trip. Can you give me a list of the people who were working in Seaside at the time of the homicides?”

“Sure.” Hale didn’t like the idea of Savannah heading to Portland, either, though there was no real reason to feel that way. Yes, the weather wasn’t great, but a lot of storms swept through the mountains in the winter, and everyone who lived at the coast and had business in the valley learned to deal with it. “Clark Russo is the manager of the Portland office. Everything got kind of shaken up when the lawsuits started, and he moved over. Then, after the Donatellas were killed, we all kind of . . . made changes.”

Sylvie said, “I suggested Clark for Portland.”

“It was a good choice,” Hale added. “We needed someone who could really take the reins, and that was Clark. Besides, he wanted to go.”

“He got spooked,” Declan said, his tone disparaging.

“Anyone else?” Savannah asked.

Hale nodded. “The project manager. Neil Vledich. Russo’s in the office, while Vledich is our on-site manager.” He thought about things and said, “Our bookkeeper quit and moved to Portland, Nadine Gretz. Ella took over her job here. Nadine’s no longer with us, but she was integral to the company.”

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