He sipped his coffee, musing. “It’s entirely possible,” he told her frankly. “So far, we have no proof that the fentanyl came from someone in the Braison Family. Or that the victim used it of her own accord, as opposed to with malice intent. Either way, you might want to stay away from their compound right now to be on the safe side.”
“I understand.” Stefanie sipped her coffee. “That’s not really my type of thing,” she told him.
“Good.” Campbell didn’t exactly mean to pass judgment on anyone who chose to align oneself with a cult. To each their own. But most who did were usually searching for some real meaning to life that might not yield the desired results. Especially if drugs were involved, along with the powers of persuasion that were misused. In this instance, he preferred not to have to compete for her attention with the likes of Kenneth Braison. Or, for that matter, any hot-blooded male who was attracted to her like he was.
Campbell couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t already too late to make a play for her affections. He decided it was best to ask in a roundabout way. “What brought you to Reston Hills?” Or was it who?
Stefanie stared at the question, her expression one of sadness. Then she said, maudlinly, “Two years ago, I lost my husband, Edward—a firefighter—after he was trapped in a wildfire that got totally out of control.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Campbell had nothing but deep respect for those who were willing to put their liveson the line to snuff out dangerous fires. Obviously, in this instance, it came at a high price.
“It was brutal for a while there,” she admitted. “Being reminded of the life we had together—before any children could come along—was difficult, to say the least. Things got better over time.” She took a breath. “Still, after a while, honestly, I felt I needed a change of pace. This seemed like a great location to make that change—so I sold my yoga and tai chi studio in San Antonio and opened a new one here.”
I guess there’s no one in her life at the moment, Campbell thought, figuring that after two years of being a widow, she might be ready to start dating again. “Glad you chose to make a home in Reston Hills,” he told her, even if that optimism may have taken a hit after finding a dead body. He hoped that wouldn’t make her want to flee at the first opportunity to do so.
“I have no regrets,” she said, as if reading his mind. “Not counting what I stumbled upon yesterday. Sad as it was, I realize it could just as easily have happened in San Antonio—and, in fact, had more often than I care to admit, as drug addiction and overdoses were an issue there, too.”
Campbell admired her courage and ability to put things in a proper perspective, difficult as that may be. “That is something that needs to be addressed nationwide,” he told her. “But running from the problem and problems it creates is never the answer for any of us.”
“I agree.” Stefanie ran a hand through her hair, which was slightly damp, as if she had just showered. “So, I understand that police work runs in your family—”
“Yes, it does.” He was surprised to hear her say thatand couldn’t help but ask, curiously, “Have you been checking up on me…?”
“Of course not.” She colored. “Bella Reston mentioned it to me yesterday at the park, after I told her you were investigating the woman’s death.”
“Bella…” Campbell sat back. “Why am I not surprised? Count on her to be the welcoming committee for newcomers.”
Stefanie smiled. “She said you went to the same high school and that your father and hers were friends back in the day.”
“The first part was true, though being a couple of years older than her, we didn’t travel in the same circles, so to speak. As for the rest, I wouldn’t exactly say that our fathers were friends. My dad did do some off-duty work for Bella’s father from time to time, like extra security at one of his fundraisers or things like that.”
“I see.” Stefanie was thoughtful. “So, have you always worked for the Reston Hills Police Department?”
“Just for the last three and a half years,” Campbell told her. “Before that, I worked as a detective for the Boise Police Department. Guess I wanted to spread my wings somewhat—even though I was inspired by my dad to go into law enforcement.”
She angled her face to the right and asked inquisitively. “Why did you move back home, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I don’t.” He rubbed his chin and contemplated the question. “It was due to a combination of too much stress on the job, too little return on my efforts, a failed relationship and homesickness.” Campbell gazed into his empty cup. “Also, it gave me the chance to get closer to my father,which hadn’t always been the case since my mother’s death years earlier.”
Stefanie gave him a knowing look. “I lost my own parents when I was just a teenager, but cherish all the time that I had with them. I’m glad you took the opportunity to bond with your father while you still could.”
“Me too.” Campbell found himself liking her more and more with each passing moment. If it were strictly up to him, he could sit there talking with her all day—and even into the night. But he was still on duty and sure she had other things on her plate to do. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your time today,” he said reluctantly.
“And I shouldn’t take up any more of yours,” she said with a straight look.
Believe me, I don’t mind one bit, Campbell told himself, but responded, “Glad I was able to let you know where things stand at the moment in the investigation.”
“So am I.” She offered him a smile.
After paying for the coffee, he walked her to her car, where Campbell said tentatively, “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”
Stefanie nodded. “Works for me.”
“Okay.” He hoped that would be sooner rather than later, but wouldn’t push it just yet.
She got into her Subaru Legacy, started it and drove out of the parking lot.
Campbell followed suit in his own vehicle, trailing for a bit before turning in a different direction at an intersection. He wondered where things could go between them, allowing his imagination to run wild for a moment or two, before coming back down to earth. Then he turned his attention to the ill-timed death of Mia O’Dell and thecircumstances that may have led up to it. What might his father have to say about this, given the almost eerie similarities to a case he’d investigated twenty years ago?
