Page 32 of Cold Light of Day

Her cell buzzed.

She hadn’t even made it to bed yet and wished she could ignore the text. She read the message from Grier.

The person found in the shipwreck was murdered.

The body had barely arrived in Anchorage, and the ME couldn’t possibly know that yet. She considered her response. Why hadn’t he told her earlier? Then again, she’d been busy.

How do you know?

Bullet to the forehead.

What was going on in her small, quiet town? Shadow Gap had never seen this kind of criminal activity. This couldn’t behappening simply because Autumn was now chief, could it? People counted on her. She had to remain strong and stay on course. But Grandpa Ike had seen right through her when she hadn’t even wanted to admit that she was having doubts about her skills as police chief.

“You’re the exact person needed for this hour.”

Another text came through.

You’re doing great, Chief. Hang in there.

Did Grier somehow sense that she was sinking, so he was throwing her a lifeline?

FOURTEEN

As a fire crackled in the woodstove, Grier set his cell on the arm of the sofa. Cap liked to think he was a lapdog, and Grier didn’t want to disappoint his only confidante.

“You’re doing great, Chief. Hang in there.”

He hadn’t needed to add the last part, and it had sounded awkward. Earning points with the chief of police of small-town Alaska wasn’t necessary, nor had it been his intention. He was just doing the right thing.

But Autumn Long wasn’t just any chief, and he couldn’t help himself.

As a kid back in Nebraska, where he attended a Sunday school class taught by his aunt who also raised him, always doing the right thing was drilled into him. What was that verse again? He snapped his fingers and Cap looked at him.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Grier rubbed the dog behind his ears, and the Scripture came to him. “See that no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to everyone.”

And though keeping a low profile was in his best interest, opportunities to do good—to help people in need—keptpresenting themselves. Like today when Ross needed help. After that incident, Grier had decided to wait and let the ME tell the chief the news. But sitting here tonight, he realized he’d been wrong to keep that from her. Grier didn’t want her to be blindsided when she heard from the ME.

Texting wasn’t the best way to tell her either, he knew.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, then rolled his head back against the sofa. Maybe he should skip town altogether and start fresh somewhere else. But Shadow Gap was a place where he could practice being invisible.

At least according to Krueger.

He couldn’t leave. Not now. And oddly enough, part of him was considering staying after... after he was free to leave. The town had become special to him. He hadn’t imagined finding such resilient, down-to-earth people who cared. Had each other’s backs. But that was only a small part of it.

What was the chief to him?

She was... beautiful.

Tough and determined.

And politics were working against her. On that, he could relate, and maybe that’s why his heart went out to her. When he helped her, he crossed the invisible line he’d drawn to keep his head down. She needed to know about the body before anyone else so she could be prepared in case this, too, was used against her.

Why anyone would want to remove her as the head of police was beyond him. He would do what he could for her, but it was best for him not to get too embroiled in her issues or investigations.

At least he and Hank had found his dog—Bear. He’d been caught, tangled up in some old rope in the wilderness. Hank claimed the man at the cabin hadn’t liked Bear coming around because the dog was interfering in his business, and according to Hank, the man had threatened to shoot Bear. That’s whenthe dog went missing and things escalated. An officer was shot and nearly died. But that wasn’t Hank’s fault.

While Grier and Hank were hiking up the mountain looking for Bear, after the manhunt had been called off, Hank shared that he’d moved to Alaska because he’d been convicted of a crime. Missouri had a crime registry, and he couldn’t get a job. But Alaska had meant a brand-new start. He worked odd jobs, and nobody cared about his past.

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