Watcher in the Woods (Rockton #4)(52)

“Yes,” I say.

Silence. I feel his heart thudding against my back.

Then he asks, “Do you still feel like that?”

“No.”

He nods. I twist to face him and say it again, to be clear. He needs that. There will always be a part of Dalton who is that boy taken from his parents. The boy who lost his family and came to Rockton, to a world where he loses everyone. Every person who comes into his life leaves again. While he’s accepted that, he’s not sure how to deal with actually wanting someone to stay.

We all learn that lesson, in our way. People enter our life, and whether or not they stay isn’t really up to us. The uncertainty is so much easier to cope with if we just inoculate ourselves to it, as Dalton has. People come, and people go, and he’s learned to enjoy what time he has with them, but he allows no one be so important that he’ll grieve their loss for long.

Now he has me, and he had to acknowledge this fear. The fear that I might go or that I might be taken from him. If I still feel like Paul—if I’m secretly hoping to be caught—might I decide to turn myself in someday? Is this just another of the endless ways he could lose me?

So I reassure him, and then I lean against him as his arms tighten around me.

“I remember when I met you,” he says. “You thought you were in danger of being arrested, and how you still tried to cut a deal with me. If we took Diana, you’d stay behind.”

“Because you didn’t want me here.”

“I didn’t want you because you didn’t want to come. I needed a detective who gave a damn.”

“I did.”

“You cared about your job, yeah. But up here your job is your life. You can’t care about one and not the other. You do now. But if someone like Garcia came for you . . .”

I twist to look at him again. “I can’t imagine that ever happening. It’s been almost thirteen years, and no one’s looking anymore. I was attacked because my boyfriend was a rich brat student dealing drugs on someone else’s turf. A few months later, Blaine was shot. The police figured it was the same guys, and my biggest worry, at the time, was that they’d catch them and they’d have alibis for Blaine. That never happened. It’s a cold case that no one cares about.”

He nods, but I can tell he’s still worrying.

I continue. “When I thought Blaine’s grandfather had tracked me down, yes, I was ready to accept my fate. I was also willing to come up here with Diana until you made it clear you didn’t want me. If the council had let you take her and not me, I wouldn’t have turned myself in, Eric. I still wasn’t ready for that.”

“The council didn’t refuse your deal with Diana. I never asked them.”

My brows lift. “What?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t like your offer. Fucking martyrdom. I wanted you to fight. To tell me you’d be a damn fine detective if I let you come. When you tried to cut that deal, I wanted to take you up on it. But . . .”

“You decided to give me a chance?”

“No. I really needed a detective, and there wasn’t much chance of me getting another one.”

I thump back against his chest, laughing. “Fair enough. I can’t imagine anyone will reopen my case, Eric. Even if they did, I’m here. But on the very, very slim chance that someone comes for me, I’m not going to put my hands behind my back for the cuffs. Nor am I going to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills.”

“You think Garcia did come for Paul? It happened in Washington, and that’s where Garcia’s from.”

“He’s from Washington state, not the city.”

Dalton pauses. “So what state is Washington city in?”

“None. I’ll explain later. Garcia said his fugitive was dangerous. Someone who attacked a federal officer is dangerous . . . especially in the eyes of another federal officer. But Garcia made it sound like we were dealing with a homicidal maniac. That’s not a guy who beats up an officer at a protest march. On the other hand, Garcia may have played up the crime to spook us into handing him his guy.”

“So, no strong feeling either way?”

“Unfortunately, no.” I ease off his lap and turn to face him. “Is Paul’s story the one you know?”

“Yeah. It’s true, too. When he wanted to join the militia, I looked it up. If he assaulted a federal agent, I had to be sure it went the way he said it did. I found the story online. No red flags there.”

“Then whether or not Garcia came for Paul is a moot point. The problem is that Paul thought he did. He won’t be the only one, either. Finding out who Garcia did come for doesn’t necessarily solve his murder.”

Which made our job a whole lot harder.

*

I tell the town that Garcia is dead. I have to. If Paul’s suicide had succeeded, his death would have been on me. My attempt to trap a killer would have taken an innocent life.

Now I’m back at square one. I can’t even narrow it down by looking at residents accused of U.S. Federal crimes. Yes, Dalton knows resident backstories, and he shares them with me on a need-to-know basis only. In this case, I need to know. The problem is two-fold. One, that the entry stories aren’t necessarily true. Two, Artie tried to kill Garcia thinking he was a cartel goon posing as a Federal agent. The killer could very well have mistaken Garcia for a hired killer or a bounty hunter. Hell, at this point, we aren’t even absolutely certain he’s not.