His gut started to ache and not from the food. “I lifted a dead kid out of a river. One I did not save.” Although he’d caught the killer, he’d failed that one child. He probably hadn’t been the nicest guy to be around for a while. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” It was the first time he’d said that.
By her sudden and unusual silence, she agreed. “Um. Well, thank you. I’m sorry for everything I did that hurt you, too.”
A feeling of stress he hadn’t realized he still held wafted away. “We’re good, then.”
“Good.” Her tone brightened. “So dinner?”
“No.” He’d moved on. “That chapter of my life is over. You’re part of that chapter.” It wasn’t kind, but it was honest. It was the best he could do for her. “I left Oregon and am never returning.” He liked it here in the mountains of Washington State, and he was finally feeling whole again.
She cleared her throat.
His instincts started to hum.
“About that. Well, I’ve been transferred to Everett. We’re expanding our streaming news service, and I’m going to head up the Everett division, just a teensy car ride from Genesis Valley and you. I almost got Seattle but missed out to that jackass Larry with the perfect comb-over.”
Huck blinked. Wait a minute. “Rachel?”
“Yeah, I’m working the Witch Creek Murder. Isn’t that the best name for a case?”
His ears rang. Name for a case? He bit his lip to keep from snapping that the case was about a raped and brutally beaten woman, not some catchy name. “No comment.”
“I figured,” she said. “But can you get me an introduction to the lead on the case? Laurel Snow is big news, especially after the two of you closed that Snowblood Peak murder case. I swear, the names of the places around here just ask for a murder, right? That might be a decent lead-in, actually.” Her voice trailed off thoughtfully.
“You’ll have to go through official channels to get a comment on this one,” he said, stabbing his fork into the food.
“What? The petite FBI agent can’t handle the press?” Rachel challenged.
Huck had no doubt Laurel could handle anything, although there was a naïveté to her brilliance that made him want to shield her. “No comment.”
“Is there something between the two of you? She is intriguing looking. Really weird with that hair and the bizarre eyes.”
Intriguing? Yeah, that was it. Laurel was also purely and naturally beautiful. There was nothing weird about her looks. “You know I don’t mix business with anything else, ever.” In fact, when he’d started dating Rachel, she’d been a freelance travel writer. Why had they even gotten engaged? It had seemed like a good idea at the moment, but now he couldn’t remember why he’d agreed. “I have nothing for you on this case, Rachel.”
“Well, I might have a thing or two for you. I’m good at my job. I’ll trade you for information.”
He stiffened. If he remembered correctly, she was great at digging up leads. Maybe she did know something about the case. “It’s late. I’ll think about dinner and let you know. Right now, I have to go.” He clicked off and looked at his unfinished noodles. So much for his appetite.
His phone buzzed again and his temper awoke. Then he caught sight of the caller. “Laurel?”
“Hi, Huck.” He could hear the rustle of clothing. “We have another body. It’s the mayor’s sister-in-law.”
Chapter Nine
Laurel drank the extra strong coffee she’d brought from home as Huck drove an hour up into the mountains to the far reaches of Genesis Valley near Scottish Lake. Heat blasted from the vents, and her seat warmer was on high, nicely warming her glutes. “You don’t always have to drive.” Although tonight, he did. She’d had several glasses of wine with dinner, and while it had been a few hours, her head wasn’t clear yet.
“I prefer to drive.” He navigated around another bend, his truck heavy on the snow. His dog snoozed quietly in his crate in the back.
The man appeared to have control issues, but he was also an experienced winter driver. “I had no idea the city of Genesis Valley extended so far into the mountains.” Which meant that Sheriff York had jurisdiction for now. Unfortunately. “Tell me about Scottish Lake. I remember seeing it on a map, but I don’t know much about it.”
He ducked his head to look up at the dark sky. “It’s two hours from Everett and three from Seattle. It’s where rich people go to spend leisure time and unplug during the summer months. No motors are allowed on the lake, so no boats or jet skis.”
“Sail boats?” She took another drink and the potent brew hit her stomach.
“The lake isn’t that big. Well, it probably is, but sailing across it would be boring after the first run. In the summer, you’d see kayaks, fishing boats with no motors, and paddle boards.” The snow fell in front of the bright headlights shining on the road. “There are two large lodges on either side of the lake where corporate folks have retreats every year.”
She set her coffee aside, not willing to risk the lining of her stomach any more than she already had. “Does Fish and Wildlife stock the lake?”
“Every summer by helicopter,” he said. “It’s fun. Next summer, I’ll bring you along.”
