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  It was only when she described what she saw in the alley that Troy’s doubts crept back in. He wanted to believe her. The fear in her voice and the rising tension as she described the man and woman struggling were real. Just as real as the tremors that gripped her voice when she recounted that man pulling a gun.

  “She was wearing a white shirt, Troy. I saw the blood spreading on it. I know what I saw.”

  “Can you describe what he looked like?”

  “Had a ball cap on and he was arguing with her. Yelling. He looked so angry. He was bigger, and clearly male from his size and build. And in the way he had a grip on her, I could tell they were fighting.”

  “Could you hear what they were fighting about?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I just knew they were fighting.”

  Troy flipped through the pages of notes. The steady cadence of her voice still whispered in his ears as he reread the words. Again, he took in the clear, concise descriptions. Her consistency in narrating the scene as well as what had transpired before she happened upon the alley. Even her account of the altercation had the distinct marks of someone who was skilled at noticing other people.

  Abstract recognition of clothing. A sense of proportion between the two people having an argument. The ability to read and recognize they were fighting, without hearing their actual words.

  She had been an observer. An astute one, too.

  So where was the blood? A body? Or a sign one had ever been in that very spot she described?

  His phone buzzed and Troy dug it out of his pocket. Brett’s name filled the screen above his text.

  Headed to precinct. Ember never found a scent.

  It figured.

  One more odd detail in an evening full of them. He’d spent some time in his career around K-9s but hadn’t been in such close proximity to one on active duty until Brett joined the GGPD a few months prior. He’d easily seen the bond between Brett and Ember. Even more, he’d come to understand just how well trained the animal was. If she didn’t pick up the scent of blood or gun residue it was because there wasn’t any to find.

  “What’s that look for?” Evangeline’s voice was low but he heard the threads of suspicion and doubt all the same.

  “My partner’s K-9 wasn’t able to scent any evidence in the alley or in the streets surrounding the area.”

  “I know what I saw.”

  Troy stared down at his notes again, surprised to see where he’d abstractly doodled on the words. The phrase “white shirt, blood spreading” was underlined and he’d written and rewritten the word blood, emphasizing its presence on the page.

  Much as he wanted to believe her—and he knew himself well enough to know that somewhere deep inside, he did believe her—it wasn’t that easy. Nor was it going to be easy to convince his fellow officers as well as his chief that this was a lead they needed to follow.

  But as he sat there, staring into the dark depths of Evangeline Whittaker’s eyes, Troy recognized the truth. This woman needed his help. He’d spent his life wishing there had been someone there to help his mother in her moment of need.

  He’d be damned if he left Evangeline alone in hers.

  CHAPTER 3

  He didn’t believe her.

  Over and over, that truth bored into her thoughts. Evangeline wanted to scream with the frustration of it all. She knew what she’d seen.

  What she’d witnessed.

  That woman had been shot in the alley, in a way that left no question murder was the intended outcome.

  But there was no evidence. No sign of a struggle. Nothing that would indicate what she had seen had actually happened.

  Although adrenaline still pumped through her in heavy, syrupy waves, Evangeline forced herself to focus. Yes, she had been edgy over the past several weeks. That feeling of being watched had become oppressive and cloying. Not to mention scary.

  She also had to acknowledge that she was under a tremendous amount of stress with work and with the chilling reality of knowing Len Davison was out on the streets. She had always taken pride in working hard at her job and being a model employee. Yet over the past few months, all of that hard work and all of that effort had felt like it was for nothing.

  The questions she had seen other people’s eyes. The questions that had rattled around in her own mind.

  And now, the questions she saw in Troy Colton’s serious, hazel gaze.

  He was a good cop. A good detective. She had worked around him long enough to know those things were true. She had to trust him, even if his initial response left her feeling vulnerable and alone.

  “The dog didn’t pick up any scent at all?” she finally asked.

  “No, not based on Brett’s text.”

  “It doesn’t make sense. Any of it. I know what I saw. And even if the woman did survive, there would be some evidence of it. Troy, the man shot her at point-blank range.”

  Despite that weird sense of being followed and the oppressiveness of feeling trapped in her own home, Evangeline knew what she had seen. She didn’t doubt herself. How did you doubt watching two people fight and another one pull out a gun and shoot the other?

  Yet as the minutes ticked past, the inevitable questions crept in.

  Was there some sort of stain already on that white shirt? Something she hadn’t noticed at first glance.

  Had that fight been some sort of strange role-playing between the two of them?

  Or worse, was it just two people, fed up and irritated with all that had been going on in Grave Gulch, simply having a fight? But even then, the dog would have found a scent.

  “Why don’t we look at this from a different angle?” Troy said. “Was there anybody else around you when you saw the altercation in the alleyway?”

  “No, there wasn’t. I was avoiding the protest happening at the opposite end of town and decided to go a different direction to get a slice of pizza.”

  “So, no one was near you?”

  “No, not at all,” she said.

  “What made you look down the alleyway at all?”

  Evangeline recognized the tactic. She had used it herself, many times, questioning a witness. It was an effort to get her to re-create the scene, and also give Troy an opportunity to see where there might be holes in her story.

  “I understand how suspicious this looks. But I know what I saw. You’re not going to trip me up or get me to say something different.”

  “That wasn’t my goal,” Troy said.

  “Oh no?”

  “No, actually I’m trying to see if we can find anyone to corroborate your story. Because while I recognize we haven’t found a lick of evidence, I saw your face when Brett and I arrived. And I know you, and I don’t believe you’re making up fake calls to nine-one-one about women being shot in alleys.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.”

  Evangeline considered his words, and that small moment of heat that had risen in his eyes when she had suggested he was trying to trip her up. Was it possible he did believe her?

  Or more to the point, that he was on her side?

  It had only been the past few weeks, since she was put on extended leave, that Evangeline had realized just how alone she was. Her job was consistently busy and she took a deep pride in doing it well, but the time spent with her own thoughts had been rather revealing.

  She talked to her mother regularly, on their twice-weekly calls, but those remained light and airy, with Evangeline unwilling to say anything that might ruffle her. Her mother had spent far too many years dealing with the fallout of her father’s behavior, and Evangeline had no wish to add to the now stress-free life she led post-divorce.

  Her father was different. They exchanged bland, cordial emails and the rare phone call to celebrate an annual holiday. A decision that suited them both but kept her life somewhat stress
-free, as well.

  Or, it had.

  The Davison case and the truth that had come out of Randall Bowe’s deception had upended every bit of order she had managed to create in her adult life. Order that she now realized was dependent on keeping others at arm’s length. A fact that made the creepy sensation of being watched or the long, endless days with nothing to do suddenly overwhelming.

  “Why don’t I drive you home?” Troy’s offer interrupted the direction of her thoughts and she was grateful for it.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Sure I do. I can swing by and get you something to eat, too. You never did get dinner.”

  The offer was thoughtful and a reminder of all she’d always believed about the good and upstanding Troy Colton. He was a consummate professional, focused on his job, but also unfailingly kind. A man who took care of others with a simple ease that often went unnoticed.

  Only, she had noticed.

  She’d noticed him often, burying her little crush on the attractive detective with a focus on work and a line of questions on whatever case they might be discussing. It would never do to show that side of herself. The one that was woman first, lawyer second.

  She had been raised in a home that had proven women couldn’t have it all. She’d taken that learning into her own life and career and had never deviated from those beliefs.

  It was only now, when she’d been forced to question all she held close, that she had to wonder if she’d been wrong all along.

  Because it felt incredibly good to have a nice, thoughtful man to lean on.

  * * *

  Troy waited until Evangeline was buckled into the passenger seat of his SUV before he turned on the ignition.

  Although there were still a few things he wanted to look into on the Davison and Bowe cases, based on the way his evening had gone Troy knew it was time to call it a day. He had connected with Brett shortly before heading out of the precinct to let him know he was done for the day, and Brett’s response was all Troy could want in a partner. After asking after Evangeline, Brett had promised he was going to put another couple of hours in on the Davison case and would follow up with an email on any notes he made.

  They weren’t formal partners yet, Brett’s recent arrival in Grave Gulch ensuring he was still getting the lay of the land in the department, but the two men had found a good, working rhythm with each other. Troy knew the addition set Melissa’s mind at ease and his own thoughts had improved since he’d realized he had such a qualified person to help work through various cases.

  It made it easier to leave tonight and take Evangeline home. He’d decided it was important to do that in his own car instead of in a police vehicle. As he pulled out of his parking spot, he briefly glanced at her face. She looked considerably less tense than when she had sat in the back of the cruiser.

  “What are you hungry for?”

  “You really don’t have to get me dinner.”

  “I think I do. Especially since I’m stopping for something myself.”

  “Okay. Well, what do you want to eat, then?”

  He fought the smile at the ease with which she’d shifted the conversation—just like a lawyer—and went with honesty on his part. “A burger is always a good idea.”

  “That is an excellent point. A burger sounds great.”

  And he knew a local place that did pretty good carryout. Troy dialed them from his in-car dash, his phone quickly connecting. In a matter of minutes, he’d ordered two cheeseburgers and added the fries for good measure.

  Based on the directions she’d shared, it wasn’t far to Evangeline’s condo and he was grateful for the extra time needed on the food prep to observe her a bit more. After navigating his way out of downtown, Troy turned into the parking lot of the burger joint. Cutting the ignition, he turned to face her.

  “How have you been holding up?”

  She hesitated for the briefest of seconds, as if weighing how much she was going to say, before she spoke. The trembling, upset tones he’d heard back at the precinct had faded, replaced by a layer of something he could only interpret as resignation.

  “I’m fine. It’s been a bit jarring not waking up on a schedule every day, but I’m doing okay.”

  “Honestly, I was a bit surprised when you mentioned that you were still out of the office. I heard the lightest rumblings when you went on leave but since I hadn’t heard anything else about it, I’d assumed you were cleared to return.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. Which is good because it means your personal business is being kept private. As it should be.”

  “It doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.”

  Troy heard those notes of frustration once again lining her voice and he had to admit he would feel the same if the position was reversed. For him, being a cop was a calling. He had worked so hard to make detective and strived every day to make sure that he lived up to the responsibility of the badge.

  While he knew a lot of his professional drive came from emotionally processing his mother’s murder, it wasn’t just Amanda Colton’s premature death when he’d been just a child that had affected him. The Coltons believed in justice, honesty and the value of hard work. It was important that they conveyed back to the public that their trust was placed in capable hands.

  He wore the badge with honor and he had learned early in his career that others in the GGPD felt the same. He had certainly always believed that of his counterparts in the DA’s office, as well.

  It was what made the situation with Randall Bowe so terrible. Yes, the man might be CSI, but he still had the responsibilities of a cop. Of protection. Of honesty. Of integrity.

  And he’d betrayed all of them.

  Evangeline let out a light sigh. “Embarrassing or not, thank you for telling me that. I assumed everyone knew about my situation.”

  Her words pulled Troy out of the angry thoughts that always accompanied any mental wanderings about Bowe. The man had proven himself scum and it was Troy’s biggest wish to see him arrested and prosecuted to the full extent of the law. “You’re welcome.”

  “You look sort of upset for a guy who’s about to eat a juicy cheeseburger. You want to talk about it?”

  Troy shifted in his seat to look fully at Evangeline. She still had the big floppy hat on but had tucked her sunglasses away somewhere. The look didn’t diminish her beauty. Instead, the long waves of dark hair that had escaped her hat now fell down her back, soft, enticing and eminently touchable.

  Shaking off the thoughts he had no business having, he keyed in on her observation. “Was I that obvious?”

  “Kind of. Your face got a little squinty and your lips fell into a straight line. I figured something upset you.”

  “What isn’t upsetting lately? Something is happening in Grave Gulch and it has been since the start of the year. My sister’s little boy, Danny, was kidnapped. Twice.” Troy shook his head, the mental anguish that Desiree had lived through not once, but twice, still fresh in his memory. “Then there’s the obvious situation with Davison and with Bowe. But even beyond the two of them, there have been some incredibly strange things that have happened to my cousins, too. There’s this general sense of unrest and unease and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to process.”

  It felt good to say the words. To actually let out all of the things that had been bothering him the past several months. But it was because it felt good that Troy realized he should say nothing.

  Police business was one thing. Family business was another. And the Coltons had certainly dealt with their fair share of both. His nephew’s recent kidnapping as well as his cousin’s run-in with a drug kingpin. It had all felt overwhelming at times.

  Evangeline’s voice was gentle and pulled him back from the dark direction of his thoughts. “Although I haven’t been as closely in the loop as usual, I was very ha
ppy to hear that everything worked out okay for your sister. And also happy to hear she’s engaged.”

  “Thank you. Desiree had a tough time there for a while. Her son, Danny, was at the heart of it all, at serious risk as a kidnapping target. Stavros has changed her life. Both their lives.”

  “I can’t imagine anything scarier for a mother. Or for your family.”

  He saw the genuine compassion in her face and recognized that even in the midst of her own troubles that day, Evangeline could still think of others.

  Wasn’t that one of the things he was struggling with?

  Of all the things they had discovered about Randall Bowe over the past few months, his lack of compassion for others had been the worst.

  Recently, some of the GGPD had noticed a pattern—that Bowe’s behavior appeared tied to the ending of his marriage. Although they were still technically married, the relationship was now over. Melissa’s discussion with Bowe’s wife had confirmed that, his wife confessing that things had gone bad after her infidelity.

  The GGPD had determined that it was that betrayal that indicated which cases Bowe played with in the CSI files. A cheating spouse or a relationship gone sour? Consistently, Bowe tampered with those files.

  It indicated someone who not only lacked compassion for others, but who could only assuage his own feelings of anger by hurting other people.

  Danny’s initial kidnapping, from the wedding of Mary Suzuki, had been the first clue that ultimately broke the case wide open. The note that came after his nephew’s kidnapping had been very clear. The GGPD needed to reopen a case that had been handled improperly if they wanted the boy back. The kidnapping was an act of desperation by the grandmother of a woman whose case had been mishandled from the start. Everleigh Emerson had been innocent of her estranged husband’s murder, but the evidence had been fairly clear-cut against her.

  Or it had appeared clear-cut.

  In the rush to get Danny back, Troy and the rest of the GGPD had listened to the warning in the note and done what was asked of them. From there, it was only a matter of reading Randall Bowe’s files more closely, and then they’d begun to find inconsistencies.