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“Confident, aren’t you.”
“Do you doubt me?”
She smiled. “No.”
Last night they’d discussed how to approach Avila and draw a confession out of him. Catherine had insight there, and Matt had listened, absorbed, and she was confident that he would do well, even without her there. He had a couple of cards to play, and when push came to shove, Matt could take the death penalty off the table. He could even take life in prison off the table. But if Avila didn’t play, Matt had a pile of charges related to the bombing he could hold over him.
Neither of them thought Avila had anything to do with the bombings, but the evidence was in his house, and he had motive. It would be hard to get around that.
“I saw you talking to Ryder this morning,” Catherine said. “Did he find anything?”
“He’s a rock star,” Matt said. “He went through the box of Neil’s files that we recovered in Avila’s house. All Neil’s notes, his methodology, and several lines he’d put out to the authorities. There is evidence—not overwhelming, but some, and I’m going to use each piece against him until he confesses.”
A moment later, Catherine said, “Come to the house for dinner next Sunday. See Lizzy. Chris.”
“I will. Thank you. For what it’s worth, Catherine, I’m really glad you’re going to Beth’s memorial.”
“I’m not looking forward to seeing my mother, but I’m glad I’m going, too.” She paused, then said quietly, “I miss her.”
“So do I.”
“I’m sorry for things I said to you. You’ve been nothing but a friend to me. I could blame my actions on my grief, but that’s taking the easy way. I was angry, I was terrified, and...I loved her so much.”
“Beth was all the good in the world in one person,” Matt said.
“Why didn’t you love her? You could have been my brother-in-law. I would have liked that.”
“I loved Beth, but I felt she was the sister I never had. We had fun, we could laugh, she brought out the best in me. But it never felt right, not romantically. And I can’t explain it any other way.” He pulled into the small airport parking lot, turned off the car. He took Catherine’s hand. She stared at his hand, because she feared she would cry if she looked in his face. “Cat.”
Now she was forced to look. Her eyes were damp.
“Cat, I forgive you. I’m tough, I know you suffered, and I appreciate that you see that now. Not only your own pain, but how you treated me, how you treated Chris. But we move forward from here, and I’m good with that.”
She nodded. “Me, too.”
He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll walk you in.”
He got her suitcase out of the trunk and carried it across the lot to the small airport entrance. She checked in—an easy process for the commuter airport—then turned back to him. “Matt. Be careful.”
He stared at her. “Don’t.”
“I can see that you’ve developed real feelings for Kara. That’s dangerous. Professionally and personally.”
“I’m not going to talk about Kara with you.”
“Then listen. You have feelings. I see that now. But Kara can’t ever be what you need.”
“You don’t know what I need, Catherine.”
“You need your job.Thisjob, what you’ve built, what you’ve done, is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Don’t let a fleeting passion destroy everything you have worked your ass off to achieve.”
Catherine turned and walked toward security. She had done what she could to save her best friend. The rest was up to him.
After Catherine left, Kara took four aspirin, finished her water, and went back to bed. She slept four hours on top of the two she’d had earlier that morning. She woke at noon, still a little hungover, but functioning.
Michael was in the kitchen. He’d made breakfast for lunch. “Matt and Ryder are at the sheriff’s office dealing with press and paperwork, then Matt is going to interview Avila again. Said if you want to watch, come by. Jim just left for the mainland for Anderson’s autopsy, but he’ll be back before dinner. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
