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“My wife also took one of his classes.” Chet clenched his teeth, the intense squared off jaw sharp even under his full beard. “He was the last person to see her alive.” His voice cracked, and he hung his head.
Her heart splintered in two. He hadn’t confided much beyond the fact his family had been killed. Now he was telling her that a man she knew, that she actually liked and respected, was the last person to see his wife. She weighed her words carefully, wanting answers but not wanting to offend. “If he was the last person to see her, I’d assume the police questioned him.”
“They did,” Tucker said, slowly. Carefully. As if he too was afraid to say anything that would trigger Chet’s temper. “Even though some things didn’t add up, they didn’t have enough to charge him.”
“And now another woman who is dead is connected to him, and so is a woman whose tires were just slashed. If he saw you in the woods yesterday, would he have recognized you?” Chet asked, tilting his head as he studied her.
A lump lodged in her throat, the answer stuck in a wave of terror. She nodded. “What does that mean?”
Chet stomped over to a small desk wedged beside the door and pulled a thick file from a drawer. “Three strikes against Professor Lipton means he still looks guilty as hell. Now all I have to do is prove it.”
* * *
Handwritten notesand glossy photos stared up at Chet from the file he’d shoved in a drawer years before and refused to take out. Reminders of the past he’d never forget but didn’t need to face. Just like now, he’d never officially been part of the investigation that failed to find the man who murdered his family.
And just like before, nothing would stop him from diving in head first. But this time, he’d finally see justice served. Life would never be the same, he’d never get back what he’d lost, but making sure the madman who’d taken so much from so many was punished had to give him at least a shred of peace.
Flipping open the file on the kitchen table, he ignored the two people staring at him from his living room. He spread out papers, each one like a punch in the gut. Each piece of evidence or theory he’d concocted twisted his insides a little bit more.
The sound of a chair scraping against the floor drew his attention to Tucker. He sat, placing his mug of steaming coffee on an empty space on the table. “You sure you want to do this? Cruz and Lincoln are more than capable. You don’t need to be sucked back in.” He flicked a wrist over the mess of contents.
“I’m sure.”
“They’re not going to like it. Cruz might be willing to throw you bits of information when he can, even asking your opinion based on what happened to Laurie and Riley. But he’s not going to want you working beside them, especially Lincoln. He’s new around here. He won’t understand like Cruz does.”
Chet lifted his gaze and met Tucker’s stare head on. “Like that’s going to stop me.”
“All right then.” Tucker rubbed his palms together. “Let’s dive in. I’m by your side, buddy. Whatever you need. Whenever you need it.”
Mia cleared her throat.
With his fists planted on the table, he swiveled his face toward her. She stood closer than he expected, her arms crossed loosely around her middle and one ankle hooked over the other. A small pout of her lips showcased her self-consciousness. Otto stayed glued to her side. “Do you want me to leave?”
A part of him wanted her to go home because he couldn’t think as clear when she was so near. In his apartment. Looking as though she belonged there. But he couldn’t say that, at least not when she might have some information that could be helpful. “How well do you know Professor Lipton?”
She ran her fingers through her still-damp hair, scrunching the wavy strands at the crown of her head and puffing them up. “Not well. I mean, it’s not like you spend a whole lot of time with your professors outside of class. And in class, we stuck to discussing spreadsheets and how to write a business plan.”
“Did he ever ask you personal questions?” Chet asked. “Ever make you feel uncomfortable?”
She shook her head. “Not that I recall.”
Tucker pulled out the chair beside him. “Why don’t you sit?”
She took the offered chair, leaning forward to look at all the papers Chet had dumped on the table. Her gaze landed on a photo of Laurie and Riley, and the muscles in Chet’s neck tightened. He traced a finger along the glossy picture, over Laurie’s long, blonde hair then over to the teddy bear Riley used to drag everywhere. His heart seized and unshed tears burned his eyes.
Damnit. This is why he didn’t take pictures out—didn’t look back on happier times. All it ever did was cause him pain.
“They were both so beautiful.” Mia’s whispers were barely audible over the ringing in his ears. “So young.”
When Chet didn’t say anything, Tucker offered her a small smile. “You’re right on both accounts. Best damn girls I’ve ever met.”
Needing to force all his suffering aside, he picked up the photo and shoved it back in the file. That was the picture the police had used when looking for his family. It was almost impossible to remember the day he’d captured that moment between his girls. A fun day on the lake. Sun streaking through their hair, laughter on their faces and in their matching green eyes. Now, that photo conjured up memories of flashing blue and red lights and a frantic need to find them.
“I’m sorry,” Mia said, leaning back in her seat. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Chet squeezed his eyes closed for a second and shook his head. “Not your fault. But let’s get back to Lipton. Is there anything at all you can tell me about the guy?”
She lifted one shoulder. “Not really.”
