The Silence (Columbia River #2)(22)

“Brady said she had access to a lot of cash.”

“Still needs a credit card to rent a car or hotel room.”

“Maybe she stole identification from someone at the rehabilitation center in Costa Rica.”

“I’ll call to ask if they’ve had any thefts.”

“You don’t have time for this. Neither of us does . . . especially now.”

“I can make a quick call while you drive us to the briefing in Oregon City. Before Ben assigned me to the task force, I did some scouring in San Diego but didn’t find a trace of her—or you—anywhere. But I did learn your father is at the Oregon coast at the moment. Did you know that?”

“I did,” Ava said reluctantly. “It’s a family trip. He has his kids and grandkids with him. David invited me.” She couldn’t call him Dad—or Father—yet. He was David. Using his first name felt safe, like keeping a small wall between the two of them. Jayne was able to fully embrace the father she’d never known existed, but Ava wasn’t there yet.

Baby steps.

“Could Jayne be with him? Was she invited?”

“I don’t know.” Ava imagined her sister playing on the beach with David’s grandkids. It was the type of opportunity Jayne wouldn’t pass up. The chance to pretend she had a real family.

It is her real family.

“Can you call him?” Zander asked patiently.

“I’ll text.” Ava picked up her phone. No small talk needed.

“No one makes phone calls anymore,” Zander complained. “It’s becoming a lost skill.”

She sent David a text asking if Jayne was with them.

“Why didn’t you join them at the beach?” Zander asked. “You could have popped in for a day visit.”

“Do I seem like a pop-in kind of person?”

“No, you seem like a person who is terrified of being a part of something unfamiliar . . . or terrified that it could become something very good.”

“Not terrified. Cautious.”

“You’ve known this family for almost nine months and you’re still hesitant? They could have been a bunch of jerks, but instead each one has reached out to you.”

“I like Kacey. We talk sometimes.” David’s daughter was the type of person Ava wanted to be friends with, but the blood connection made her hesitate.

She waited a few moments, staring at her screen. “I don’t think David is the type of person that always has their phone in hand. I might not hear back for a while.”

“I envy those people.”

“I do too. But I’ve accidentally left home without my phone and felt as if I was missing a limb.”

“Let’s head out to the meeting,” Zander suggested.

Ava nodded and stole another look at her phone. No text. She slipped it into her pocket, grabbed her bag, and followed Zander.

Why do I feel this day will get worse?





10

Mason welcomed the heat of the sun as he stepped out of the medical examiner’s office. Even the waiting room had been cold. He turned his face to the sky, appreciating the warmth and realizing how drained he was. It was barely noon and he wanted to go home, take a nap, and not wake up until someone could tell him Ray was out of the woods.

Instead, he had to go back to Reuben Braswell’s home and pick up where he and Ray had left off yesterday. At least the crime scene team should be gone. No one to distract him.

Why am I not rushing over there?

The need to nap swamped him again. As important as the Braswell murder case was to him, he desperately wanted his finger on the pulse of the shooter investigation. The image of the dead officer in the medical examiner’s office haunted him.

It could have been Ray.

He and Ray went back more than a decade. Mason had been an experienced detective when Ray was assigned to the Major Crimes division as a rookie, fresh off being a state trooper for years. His easy talkativeness and snappy way of dressing had annoyed Mason at first, but he’d soon learned the former college football player had a big heart and a brain as sharp as a knife. They had become friends, and Ray and Jill had pulled him into their lives when his own was cold and empty after his divorce from Jake’s mom. He’d dragged his heels, not wanting to bring down the upbeat family with his taciturn ways.

With strong encouragement from Jill, Ray had prevailed.

Mason was a better man for having known both of them.

“Callahan.”

Mason stiffened at the familiar voice. Michael Brody leaned against an SUV parked twenty feet away at the yellow curb.

Not now.

He didn’t like to admit it, but Mason grudgingly admired the investigative reporter. As a whole, reporters drove him nuts. And it’d only gotten worse with the hundreds of online “news” sites cropping up. Facts and truth weren’t high on their list of priorities when it came to sniffing out a story.

But Brody was one of the good ones. The two of them had butted heads a few times but eventually recognized they shared a dedication to finding answers. Ava adored the reporter for some reason. Probably because he usually rubbed Mason the wrong way. Brody had no filter and no respect for authority. Mason suspected Ava pushed him and Brody together as much as possible so she’d have a sociology experiment to analyze.