The Silence (Columbia River #2)(19)

Detective Hawes.

“Nora . . . why are—” Mason cut off his words. The OSP detective could only be here for one reason. He looked past her to the male body on the other table. “Is that one of the . . .” He couldn’t finish.

“Deputy Tims. From the courthouse yesterday.”

One of the murdered officers.

A subtle dizziness came over him, and the other body blurred in his vision.

That could have been Ray on that table. Still might be.

“I hadn’t heard you were assigned to the shooting,” Mason said lamely.

“Last night. I’ll be working with the task force that the Clackamas County sheriff put together.”

He took a deep breath and his vision cleared. He and Detective Hawes both worked out of the Portland office. She hadn’t been there long, but she’d impressed Mason with her thoroughness and work ethic. She would have been his choice to find Ray’s shooter.

Concern shone in her eyes as she studied him. “Ray’s going to be fine. And we’ll get the guy—or guys—who did this.”

“I have no doubt you’ll find the shooter.”

“You heard there are four deaths now?” Nora asked, sadness in her eyes.

Shock rocked Mason, and he shook his head, unable to speak.

It’s a never-ending nightmare.

“The injured Oregon City officer didn’t make it,” she said.

His face flashed in Mason’s mind. “Young.”

How many more police will die?

“Twenty-five. Married with a two-month-old son.”

Anger swept through him, and Mason bit his tongue. There was nothing that could be said to fix what had happened.

“Mason?” Dr. Trask asked. “I’d like you to look at this.”

“I’ll let you go,” Nora said. “We both have a lot to do.”

He watched the detective return to Dr. Rutledge’s autopsy and sent up a fervent prayer that there’d be no more deaths.

Especially Ray’s.





9

Ava rubbed the smeared mascara below her right eye. She’d glanced in the mirror by her front door as she was leaving for work and had done a double take. “How on earth did I do that?” She’d put on her makeup a half hour ago, before Mason left for the medical examiner’s office. “He would’ve told me if he’d seen it,” she mumbled. “I think.”

Sometimes men didn’t notice that type of thing.

Her phone rang, and she smiled as the name of the winery they’d reserved for the wedding showed on her screen. She was in love with the place. It was a Tuscan-style building that sat on top of a hill out in Yamhill County. The views were spectacular, but it wasn’t pretentious. It was small and homey and welcoming. Their wedding wouldn’t be large, maybe forty people.

“This is Ava.”

“It’s Erin. I’m so glad I reached you.”

Ava would have recognized the young woman’s British accent anywhere. She’d spent many hours chatting with the winery’s manager. Discussions about wedding plans had led to discussions about wine and then discussions about Italy. Erin had spent two years there and had advised Ava on her honeymoon plans.

“Hi, Erin, what’s up?”

“Is everything okay? When my assistant told me you canceled your date, I had to call you. I was really worried.”

Ava’s hands turned to ice. “What?”

“You canceled your reservation. Monica said you called ten minutes ago.”

Panic shot up her spine. “No! I didn’t call! Oh my God, Erin. You didn’t give my date away, did you?”

“No, of course not! I wanted to hear it from you personally.” She lowered her voice. “I did wonder if something went wrong between you and Mason. It does happen.”

“Who—who would . . . ?” Ava’s shoulders fell. Jayne.

Her sister was back in the States, and it appeared she was up to her old games.

“I’m so sorry to scare you like that. Who on earth would do such a thing? Do you or Mason have an angry ex who would call?”

“No exes.” Ava pressed two fingers above her right eyebrow, a headache blossoming. “I think someone was playing a joke.”

“Well, it’s a shitty joke.” Erin’s accent thickened. “I’ll leave it to you to dole out the tongue-lashing. What a horrible thing to do. What if Monica had gone ahead and filled the date?”

“Then you would have kicked them out because you know that is my date—our date,” she corrected.

“You bet your arse I would.”

Ava ended the call a minute later.

Do I tell Mason?

She wouldn’t do it now. He had enough on his plate. And she still hadn’t told him about Brady Shurr’s visit and Jayne’s disappearance. It felt as if she had learned about Jayne much longer ago than yesterday. But yesterday had turned into a lengthy nightmare.

No wonder she’d forgotten to bring up Jayne.

She sent a text to Cheryl, her next-door neighbor and wedding planner, asking if she was home.

Yep. What do you need?

Can I come over for a minute?

The door is open

Her anger starting to boil, Ava gave Bingo a head rub and then marched over to Cheryl’s house. The door was literally open, and Ava walked right in.