Right Where We Belong (Silver Springs #4)(70)

“I thought you were tired,” she said.

He shrugged. “I’ll be in soon. I’m just taking a few minutes to unwind.”

She listened to him work on the song he’d started a few days ago. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that one before.”

He changed chords to see if he liked that sound better. “It’s new.”

“I like it. It’s...heartfelt, tender.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, but he kept his attention on his guitar, since he’d been thinking about Savanna when he wrote it.

Heather listened a little longer. “Is something wrong?” she finally asked, breaking in again.

“With me? No.”

“You seem...remote.”

“I told you. I’m willing to start over, but I want to take it slow. It’s not going to be like it was, maybe not for several months.” If ever. Try as he might, he still wasn’t sure he could force his heart...

“I understand. I’m willing to give you time. But still. I don’t know. You seem more than remote, I guess. You seem troubled.”

“Hearing about Scott got my adrenaline going.” That was true at least. He was angry with Scott and planned to do something about it. But he was more upset by the fact that he had to let Savanna go. He wished, at a minimum, he could wait until the last possible moment, but he knew if he continued to see his neighbor he’d only undermine his ability to do right by his child.

Heather walked over and, resting her hands on his shoulders, dropped a kiss on his head. “I love you.”

He wished he could say the same.

*

“She knows something.” Savanna had called Detective Sullivan as soon as she’d fed Branson and Alia breakfast. While her kids were happily engaged in cleaning out an old kiddie pool they’d found in the detached garage, she looked on so they wouldn’t get hurt but stood far enough away that they also wouldn’t be privy to her conversation.

“That’d be good news if there was any way she’d talk to us,” he said.

After explaining her encounter with Dorothy the night before, Savanna had expected a much more enthusiastic response. “Can’t you make her talk?”

“Getting her to talk is one thing. Getting her to tell the truth is another.”

“I understand. But I didn’t believe you, either, not at first. Maybe you can convince her.”

“If what we’ve found so far hasn’t convinced her, I’m not sure it’s possible. That’s the problem. She knows about the items in the duffel bag, the DNA, all of it.”

Savanna waved as Alia yelled for her to watch and squirted Branson with the hose. He squealed and began to chase her to get hold of the water so he could return the favor. “I’m telling you, hearing Emma Ventnor’s name instantly changed her whole demeanor! She nearly stumbled off my porch. Then she crashed into my neighbor’s truck and took off without even bothering to leave her insurance information.”

After a long silence, he said, “Okay. I’ll stop over to see her, try again.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You need to do more!”

“Like what?”

“Get a search warrant and go through her place the way you did mine. She lives in Salt Lake. Gordon stayed over there on occasion, if he was too tired to finish the drive home or had to be at a mine that was closer to her place than ours the next morning. They were very close at the end.” Closer than he’d been to his own wife—as Savanna had come to realize.

“It’s not as easy as you might think to get a search warrant. Warrants have to be very specific. I have to name the part of the house I plan to search and what I’m looking for. I can’t violate his mother’s privacy by going on some kind of fishing expedition.”

“I just told you—he stayed with her on occasion.”

“I know. And she started acting strange when you mentioned Emma’s name last night. I heard you. I’m saying that might not be enough.”

“Are you kidding me? He could’ve left his bloody clothes there, because he certainly never brought them home to me. I know you don’t believe me about that—or haven’t in the past—but it’s true. Tell the judge you’re searching his mother’s house for Gordon’s bloody clothes and possibly a pair of boots.”

“I’ll try, like I said. Have you heard from Gordon this morning?”

“No.”

“Call me if you do.”

She covered the phone to tell Branson that he’d served up enough revenge on his little sister, and they finally went back to cleaning out the pool. “He’s not going to admit to having anything to do with Emma,” she said when she removed her hand. “He knows those phone calls are recorded.”

“Is there any chance you’d consider going to see him, then?”

She took a step back, even though he couldn’t see her. “No, I can’t do that. I don’t want to see him. Besides, I live in California now, and I’d have no one to watch my kids while I was gone.”

“We’d provide a licensed caregiver to stay with Branson and Alia, and we’d fly you in, so it wouldn’t take that long. What’s the flight time from LA to Salt Lake? An hour and a half? That’s nothing.”