Page 45 of Wild Justice

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind some advice today, especially from you.”

“Don’t ask him about the pregnancy first thing. Lull him into a sense of security. Ask easy, gimme questions that make him feel safe. Not threatened in any way. Then when he doesn’t expect it, mention the pregnancy. That way you get the most authentic reaction from him. Because if he’s like normal people, he’s going to come in stressed as hell with an attorney. He’s going to be defensive from the get-go. Make him feel comfortable. Offer him coffee or a soft drink. Thank him for making time to meet with you. Smile and be friendly.”

“In other words, catch him off guard. Nice, Uncle Dare. Have you used this method?”

Because Dare rarely acted all sweet and nice. His usual demeanor was big ole grouch.

“No, but your dad did. I know Tanner, Reed, and Logan did, too. Probably Griffin, as well, because hell, that’s who he is. Easygoing until he has to be something else. Anyway, that’s just a suggestion. Feel free to ignore it.”

Turning on his bootheel, Dare lumbered out of her office, closing the door behind him. She picked up her notebook and pen, ready to go talk to Jay and Allie, but she took a moment to take a deep breath.

She needed to center herself, and she needed to do it right now. There was work to be done, and she was the one that needed to do it. There was no time for flights of fancy and romance. She was the goddamn sheriff in this town. She was the law. She needed to act like it because this badge could be taken from her at any moment.

Her fingers brushed the metal of the badge at her waist briefly, an image in her head of her dad’s expression when he’d given it to her. He’d been proud, and she didn’t want to do anything to let him down. Any romantic entanglements were going to have to wait their turn. She had a killer to find.

When Dare had mentioned how happy and glowing she’d looked, heat had flooded her cheeks and her stomach had done a few flip-flops. She’d never quite felt this way before about anyone. She should be thinking about doing her investigation, but here she was wondering if her entire life showed on her face.

She had to be careful. She didn’t want people to look at her and know what she was thinking and feeling. Besides, she wasn’t in love. That would be crazy. She didn’t know Kai that well. Not yet.

But she could befallingin love. She could admit that much.

Of all the spontaneous, impetuous, jump in the lake with all her clothes on thing to do. She had the distinct feeling that it just might be too late to be careful and take it slow.

12

Kai was still thinking about his night with Lulu when he knocked on Dana’s older sister’s front door. She lived in a housing development in Springwood, the kind with lots of families and an elementary school nearby.

He’d called Jillian Cartwright Evers the day before to set up an appointment to talk to him for the profile he wanted to do regarding Dana and her family. They’d settled on this morning after she took her two children to school.

“Come in,” she said, stepping back so he could pass. “Would you like some coffee?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

“We can talk in the kitchen,” she said. “You don’t mind if I have a cup, do you? I need my caffeine.”

“Of course, not. Go right ahead.”

They settled at the round kitchen table after Jillian poured herself a cup. She looked like her sister, especially around the nose and chin, but with a different hair color.

“What do you want to know? What kind of article are you planning to write?”

“The plan is a human-interest piece,” Kai explained. “I want to make sure that my readers know your sister as a person, not just as a statistic.”

“And you’re planning to speak with my parents?”

“I am, but we haven’t been able to work out a time yet. I know that they’re grieving, and I want to respect that. Your grief, as well, Mrs. Evers.”

“Call me Jill. All my friends do.” She leaned forward as if she was going to tell him a secret. “I agreed to speak with you because I wanted to be sure that the true story was told. You’ll just get a bunch of revisionist history if you talk to my mom and dad.”

“Revisionist?” Kai echoed. “In what way?”

“They sort of try to gloss over some of the things my sister has done in the past. She was - to be blunt - self-destructive. She made poor life decisions and then expected everyone to go out of their way to help her fix whatever she’d broken. It was the sad pattern of her life, and a few years ago, I decided that I was done doing that. I’ve taken quite a bit of abuse from my parents for doing this. But I told them that they weren’t helping Dana in the long run. And then this happened. I can’t say that I’m shocked.”

Wow, did this woman even like her sister? Was she victim-blaming? Jillian didn’t appear to be a woman grieving, but to be fair, people grieved in many different ways especially over time. Just because she wasn’t crying and wailing, didn’t mean that Jillian wasn’t devastated in her own way.

Sometimes that was when people were at their most combative, angry at their loved one for leaving. They wanted someone to blame, and since there wasn’t a killer caught yet, it was often easier to blame the dearly departed.

“How about we start at the beginning,” Kai said. “You describe Dana as self-destructive. Can you give me some examples of that behavior?”

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