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EIGHT
The next morning, Jack rose early and showered. He tried to get Terra out of his mind, but he couldn’t shake images of the past that collided with yesterday’s encounter. Distance and time had never completely removed her from his thoughts. Pulling on a T-shirt, he thought back to her words. She wanted to put the past behind them. Could they ever truly do that? Facing Terra and interacting with her had taken all his mental muscle. Emotional dexterity too.
Last night, he’d only been trying to make conversation to ease the pained look on her face at seeing the memorial again, nothing more, and she’d admonished him.
He forced his thoughts back to what mattered—finding Jim Raymond’s killer. Was the killer still in the area? The county or state? Had Jim sold someone insurance that hadn’t paid as promised and they had taken revenge?
Jack read a text from Deputy Sarnes—more information about Jim’s activities that might or might not be related. His head was spinning in too many directions. He thought through his next steps. Sheriff Gibson had told Jim’s wife, Pauline, the news last night and instructed Jack to hold off on talking to her until the morning. Said she was too upset to be coherent and that a doctor had given her a sedative. Jack was as compassionate as the next guy—or detective or special agent—but would have preferred to speak to her last night.
Regardless, news of a killer on the mountain would spread like a Montana wildfire through the county seat, Big Rapids, where Jim was known and loved, and eventually throughout Grayback County.
The pressure was on to find a killer.
Jack had grown up here, and had only been back in the area for about three months, working in his new capacity as a detective. While many of the same rules applied, the job was a lot different from his position as Special Agent Jack Tanner, or in his last assignment working undercover as a bodyguard to a high-profile criminal now behind bars.
He shaved his whiskers and took in the scar on his midsection where the bullet had almost killed him. At least he’d saved the journalist that night. He’d been too late for—
He gripped the edges of the sink and hung his head. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and steadied his nerves. He would be no good today if he didn’t put what happened behind him.
He finished dressing, then rushed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where Aunt Nadine sat drinking coffee and playing with a dog he’d never seen. He chuckled to himself. Another stray.
“Morning.” He kissed her on the cheek, then plated eggs, bacon, and toast that waited on the stove.
“Morning, Jack. You busy today?”
He paused. Uh-oh. The way she asked that ... “Why? Did you need help with something?”
“I want to put some lost and found posters up for Freckles, here.” She was looking to the new stray addition to the family, a copper-and-white cocker spaniel. “He has a boy out there somewhere. I just know it.”
Aunt Nadine had a reputation for taking in strays—humans and animals alike. He couldn’t fault her for her soft, caring heart. After all, she’d taken in her granddaughter when her own daughter was spending too much time partying and was too high to care for her own child. That seemed to be a family curse. Drugs and alcohol. Then Aunt Nadine had taken Jack in too. Some might have expected her to do that since she was his aunt, but he was a lot of trouble for her and Uncle Barry, before he died.
Jack downed black coffee. “I can help you with that, but I have something I need to do first, if that’s okay.”
“You mean on that murder.”
“Yep. I need to stay on top of it. That’s my job here, and you wouldn’t want me to mess up. You want me to find who killed Jim, don’t you?”
“Yes. I know you’ll find that murderer. You were FBI before, after all. They can use your skills in the county. You’re the best thing to happen to the sheriff’s office in a long time.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” And that’s why he kept his secret from her. If she knew one of the reasons he left his former job, it would break her heart. He rinsed his plate and hers. “You wait for me to get back. We’ll put the posters up everywhere, I promise.”
In his vehicle, Jack headed straight for Jim and Pauline’s home. Cars lined the driveway and the street. Relatives, families, and friends. Though Jack dreaded facing the bereaved widow, he needed to question her about Jim’s day and his connections. His home could be part of the narrative, too, since evidence or clues might be found there.
Considering Jim knew everyone and was supposedly loved by everyone, this investigation could get complicated. But it was clear that at least one person didn’t love Jim Raymond.
Jack received a text and looked at his phone. Terra. They’d exchanged numbers yesterday just in case he required assistance.
I’m here with Pauline. Where are you?
Confusion rocked through him. She wasn’t investigating the murder, so what was she doing there? Maybe she’d stopped in to give her condolences. He didn’t waste time responding.
He hiked up the driveway, weaving between parked vehicles, then marched up the porch steps to stand at the door.
He dreaded causing Pauline more pain. Maybe Terra getting here and going in first was a good thing and would help his approach.
A stocky older man opened the door before Jack even knocked. Jack introduced himself and stated the purpose of his visit.
The man’s face remained grim. “I’m JB, Pauline’s brother. Follow me.”
