Page 89 of Deadly Target (Rocky Mountain Courage 2)

THIRTY-SEVEN

All right, if she wouldn’t share, then Nathan would have to. “I think you’re onto something. Erin has had an incident involving the podcast.” Nathan angled toward her. “Do you want to tell him? Or should I?”

Nathan hated seeing that look of betrayal in her eyes. She’d shared something personal with him. She’d trusted him. Still, he would not let harm come to her.

“I get it,” he whispered to her. Then he glanced at the detective. “It’s hard for her to talk about, but it could be related.”

The podcast about what happened that night confirmed how desperately she needed to talk about it. He wasn’t entirely sure what had held her back all these years. The trauma? Her mother pressuring her? Whatever the reason, he wished she’d told him everything long ago, or at least told him about the recent attempt on her life.

“I know,” she said finally. “I haven’t talked about this to anyone since that time. My mother whisked us away. Changed our lives. Forced us to forget and never speak of it again.”

“That could be why you needed the podcast,” Nathan said.

Her eyes flashed at him.

Okay, so maybe she didn’t need him stating the obvious.

Detective Munson had started in on his breakfast, slowly chewing while he waited patiently for Erin to share her morbid past.

She stared into her coffee cup. “I’m a psychologist, and yet it’s so hard to see the truth. To admit it.” Erin blew out a breath. “I’m going to need more coffee.”

Her disturbed features hardened with determination.

“My latest podcast is about a child abducted in the woods.”

While Erin told her story, Nathan watched Detective Munson, who listened intently. He’d mentioned working on the drive to Big Rapids. Had Munson gotten all the way through the “Deadly Rabbit Trail” season of Missing Children, including the last episode?

Last night, Nathan listened to all the episodes again, to make sure he hadn’t missed any details. The investigations were quickly shifting. Nathan, as well as everyone else in his department, had gone with the assumption that the man who had followed them on the mountain road and very nearly taken them out had everything to do with Dad’s shooting.

A BOLO had been put out on the man.

But what Munson shared today revealed that he was connected to the Seattle incident instead. Could Erin’s past have somehow truly caught up to her? Regardless, Nathan would be on the lookout for threats from both Boston and Seattle.

Tears shimmered in her eyes, but none of them spilled as she finished her sordid tale and topped it with a pink hat.

Munson leaned back and stared at the ceiling in thought. “Why the pink hat? What’s the significance?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t public knowledge.”

“Maybe someone else could have known about it. The missing girl’s mother. We’ll question her, see if she left you the comment.”

Erin rubbed her arms. “I don’t see her as someone who would comment on a blog post, at least like that, leaving me a cryptic message without signing it. Something.”

Erin had told Nathan that Missy’s mother hadn’t known she’d worn the hat.

“Are you sure you’re not overreacting to the message?” Munson asked.

“I don’t think we are.” Nathan answered for her. Still, Munson had caught on to something, and Nathan was missing it because he was too close to it. “What are you thinking?”

“Let’s say—and of course, I’m speaking hypothetically here—this person listened to the podcast and realized you are speaking of a crime he committed. And let’s say he’s the one who commented. Why would he focus on the pink hat? It seems like such a small detail for even him to remember or care about.”

What is the man getting at?“It’s the one detail that she left out of the podcast,” Nathan said.

“Think back to that time, Erin.” Munson pushed his plate aside and pressed his palms flat on the table, leaning forward.

Erin, instead of Dr. Larson, this time.

Nathan watched her. “You don’t have to do this.”

Munson shot him a look. “Two people are dead. Her life has been threatened.”

True. Nathan hated seeing her go through this, though. “She’s been over this a thousand times, and all the information is in her podcast.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Erin glanced between Nathan and Munson. “I see it now. I see that I left out the pink hat, but I left out more than that. Yes, Missy wore the pink hat that night. But she wore it instead of me. I wore it everywhere, but that night, Missy and I traded. I wore her blue sweater, and she wore my pink hat.”

Nathan stilled at those words and shared a look with the detective.

Pain ignited in her gaze. “Don’t you see? It was my hat.”

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