Page 5 of Jina

He was about to turn back to his car, when she asked, “How did your vic die?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Why do you ask?”

“Just cop curiosity.” Was it his imagination, or did she sound nervous? “You must have found something that indicated he was a victim of a crime.”

He hesitated, tempted to simply walk away. But then he surprised himself by saying, “His skull was bashed in.”

Her eyes widened with shock that appeared genuine. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. “Really? That’s awful. I can’t believe some poor dead man was found on our old farm property.”

Again, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining things, but it seemed to him that Jina was relieved by the news.

As Cole slid behind the wheel of his SUV, he wondered if that was good or bad. Either way, he knew he’d be back to talk to her again.

Very soon.

CHAPTER TWO

A dead man was found on the old farm property. The immediate threat of the shooter showing up at her home paled in comparison to the news Detective Cole Roberts dropped on her like a bomb. She sat in her kitchen, reliving the interview. When he’d mentioned the dead guy, she’d momentarily feared the worst. That she had in fact killed the man who’d tried to climb into her bedroom window twelve years ago.

But she knew he’d run off, so they couldn’t be one and the same. Yes, she had found a bit of a blood trail, but nothing significant. Not like an arterial bleed or anything like that.

And she absolutely had not bashed his head in.

That image brought back the incident in college when Rory Glick had tried to force himself on her. She had smashed her laptop computer against his head but hadn’t killed him either. She’d reported that incident to the campus police who arrested him and took the computer in as evidence. Rory had done time in jail for two years before being released. A condition of his release was that he had to be listed on the sex offender website. The last time she’d checked, he was still in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where his parents lived.

Could he be the shooter? Not likely. He wouldn’t know she was a cop. And really, why come after her all these years later?

Which brought her back to the dead guy who’d been found on her parents’ property. She hadn’t liked lying to Cole when he’d asked about anything strange happening back then. Maybe she should have told him about the stalker incident, but since she hadn’t reported the case twelve years ago, giving out that information now would only make her look more guilty. Sure, she hadn’t killed anyone other than in the line of duty; however, Cole would be forced to consider her a suspect.

A blemish on an otherwise spotless career.

No, she wasn’t going to let that happen. Could her stalker have been this Bradley Crow guy who’d gone missing? If so, how? And why? She couldn’t find a logical explanation, unless Crow had stalked some other girl whose father, brother, or boyfriend had smashed his skull. That was far more likely in the big scheme of things.

It was fruitless to wish she’d done something different back then. At seventeen, she hadn’t understood how the legal system worked. She’d been afraid she’d be arrested. So she’d kept her mouth shut.

Had her stalker gone to the emergency department at the local hospital? She felt certain he hadn’t because a gunshot wound would be an automatic report to the police. And surely he would have turned her in as trying to kill him. Unless he’d fabricated another story about how he’d been injured.

One thing was for sure, nobody had come to the farmhouse to interview her or her parents. Her parents hadn’t been home that night anyway, so they were clueless.

But Shelly knew the truth.

Jina shot out of her chair to pace the room. She couldn’t call Shelly now. Not only was it well past midnight, and her pregnant sister needed rest, but if Cole obtained a subpoena for her cell phone, the call at this hour right after her interview would only raise more questions.

A disposable phone might work, but Shelly’s phone records would reveal the call too. Too risky. A better idea was to hop into her car and drive the eighty miles to Madison.

But that would mean missing work. She raked her hand through her hair and winced, hating the thought of disappointing her bosses Rhy and Joe, but it couldn’t be helped.

Tactical team captain Rhy Finnegan and lieutenant Joe Kingsley were always good about supporting members of the tactical team when personal time was needed. She hadn’t taken a vacation in over a year, so she doubted they’d deny her request.

But they might ask questions. Questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

When joining the police academy, she’d answered honestly about not committing any crimes. And firing at a stalker climbing into her bedroom window who’d subsequently fled on foot wasn’t exactly a crime. Yet she had covered up a potential crime against her and her role in scaring him off. At the time, she’d told herself it didn’t matter.

Now she wasn’t so sure. The one sticking point was that she had used her father’s gun without permission. With a wince, she pressed her fingers into her temples. Her head was pounding, and not because of the kickboxing work out. For the first time in years, she felt unsure of herself.

She didn’t much like it.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, she grabbed her key fob off the table. There was no point in sticking around here, driving herself crazy. She would drive to Madison now so she’d be at her sister’s bright and early. She’d sleep in her car—it wouldn’t be the first time—then first thing in the morning, she’d call Rhy to ask for time off.

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