Cisco grumbled, trying to get more comfortable.
“That’s interesting that you should ask,” Uncle Wayne said quietly.
Katie sat up. “You met someone?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“We’ve been dating for about a month.”
“A month? You’re just telling me now?” Katie was happy to hear her uncle was seeing someone. She didn’t want him to be alone. “What’s her name? She doesn’t work at the department or in corrections does she?”
He laughed. “No. Her name is Sydney Butler.”
“Where did you meet her?”
“At a fundraising event. We seemed to get along…”
“C’mon, Uncle Wayne, ‘get along’? You mean you had chemistry. I bet she’s pretty.”
“Slow down with the interrogation, Katie. We’ve been out a few times, getting to know one another.”
“What does Sydney Butler do?”
“She’s a commercial real estate broker.”
“Wow, she’s pretty and sounds smart.”
“She is.”
Katie was happy to see her uncle going on with life and getting out more to meet new people away from the department. She hugged him again. She almost felt like she did after her parents were gone and her uncle stepped up and took care of her.
“How are you doing with the case?” he said, changing the subject.
“Fine. You’ve read the reports,” she said, trying not to sound as uncertain as she felt.
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful with me.”
“It’s like any other case. There are a lot of moving parts. Things that don’t seem to fit and things that are still missing.” She turned to look at her uncle. “It’s fine. Gav and I have been in rough places before with investigations. We have a big day tomorrow and will hopefully get some answers.”
“I know you and McGaven will find the killer even if they aren’talive.”
That piqued Katie’s curiosity. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve thought about this, but maybe whoever killed Mrs. Collins and her child could be dead—especially if it’s been more than ten or fifteen years. A lot of things have happened.”
“So what you’re saying is, that they could have been murdered by one of the other people we have found?”
“There’s definitely a possibility.”
Katie stayed quiet for a few minutes. She had to admit she thought the husband, Bruce Collins, was the most likely suspect, in theory and statistics, but what if he had been murdered by someone who knew or found out what he did? Buck had suggested she start with Bruce and his family tree and work her way back.
“I know those wheels are churning,” said the sheriff, interrupting her thoughts.
“I’m sorry, it’s part of the job.”
“Well,” he said, getting up from the sofa. “You need your sleep and so do I.”
