Page 106 of Trapper Road

“You did what you thought was right. Diakos is a good cop with good instincts. There’s a reason he was promoted to detective.”

“He’s a damn baby,” I grumble. “I can’t believe I let him talk to Sam without me there to rein him in. What was I thinking?” My heartburn flares, and I press the palm of my hand against my chest, as if that might somehow ease the burning tension.

Javi presses his lips against my temple. “You have to calm down,Corazón. Remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure this morning.”

I twist away from him, my hands on my hips as I glare at him. “You know what really helps someone lower their blood pressure?” I don’t wait for an answer. “Telling them to calm down.”

“Kez—”

I shake my head. I feel tears threaten, which only spurs my anger because I don’t like crying and yet it somehow has become a near daily experience in the past few weeks because of these damn pregnancy hormones. “You don’t understand,” I say, swiping a hand under my eyes. “Sam could go to jail because of me.”

The words have barely left my mouth when the door swings open, hitting the wall with a loud bang. I spin, hand dropping to where I’d normally wear my gun, but I’d already put it away in the safe when I returned home.

Javi’s still armed, though, and he pushes in front of me, shoving me behind him. His firearm is already drawn and by his side.

Lanny storms into the room. If she notices Javi’s gun and defensive stance, she says nothing. Instead she fists her hands on her hips, chin jutting out. “What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean Sam could go to jail?”

Javi’s shoulders ease, and he slips his gun back into his holster in one smooth, barely noticeable motion. I step around him. “Lanny, honey—”

She shakes her head. I recognize the stubborn set to her jaw. I’ve seen it enough times in her mother to know there’s no talking her down. “Tell me what happened,” she demands.

I glance at Javi. It’s obvious by his expression that he’s leaving it up to me how much to share with Lanny. I decide to tell her all of it. If she’s going to be living under my roof and my responsibility, I want her armed with knowledge.

With a sigh, I pull out a chair from the kitchen table and sink into it. “It’s about what happened at your house.”

She sits across from me, her back still rigid and her expression guarded. She’s silent, waiting for me to continue.

“We think someone may have been murdered. There’s no body, so we don’t know for sure, but there was a lot of blood and we were able to match it to a man named Leonard Varrus.”

Lanny frowns, trying to place the name. “Should I know him?”

“I don’t know. He knew your parents and had apparently been threatening them. Sam threatened him in return, and now he’s missing, presumed dead.”

She prickles at the insinuation Sam may have been involved. “Sam didn’t kill anyone. He wouldn’t. Unless it was in self-defense.”

I hesitate and Javi moves behind me, dropping a supportive hand on my shoulder. “There may be evidence that points to his involvement. Another detective is investigating and is considering whether to bring charges.”

She considers this for a moment, and then her shoulders slump. “Fuck. This is bad, isn’t it?”

I don’t bother correcting her language. It’s not my place, and if there’s an appropriate time to curse, it’s probably now. “It’s not great,” I acknowledge.

Her forehead furrows. “Why aren’t you investigating it?”

I glance at the table, my thumb tracing a waving grain of wood while my stomach knots in anxiety. “I worried about the appearance of bias. I knew Sam couldn’t have had anything to do with it and thought it was best if a neutral third party was the one to come to that conclusion.” I look up and meet her eyes. “I may have been wrong.”

Lanny chews her lip, staring at nothing as she takes this all in. “What’s the evidence against Dad?”

I can see where this is going and I’m not sure it’s a great idea. “I know you want to help, but—”

She cuts me off. Determination flashes in her eyes and for a moment my breath almost catches at how similar she looks to her mother. “This is my family,” she says. “I don’twantto help. I’mgoingto help. Either with you or without you.”

32

GWEN

I’m up early the next morning, despite going to bed way too late. The first thing I do is check on the kids, but of course they’re asleep. I text Sam but don’t get anything back. I think about texting Kez, but I know how sacred sleep is when you’re pregnant.

So instead I dive back into work, hoping to distract myself. I start with Juliette’s files. I’ve already read through them several times, but I decide that I should give everything another look through the lens of what I learned from Josiah. As farfetched as it sounds, Juliette could be a sociopathic predator. In which case, maybe there were things I missed before because I thought of her as a sweet, somewhat naive, but essentially average teenager.

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