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“It seems like yesterday.” Traci Martin, now Traci Velasquez, sniffed as Veronica stood next to her at Tawny’s gravesite. The simple, flat stone marker belied the tremendous grief that their family had experienced—hell, still suffered—since Tawny’s death a decade ago. Veronica had moved on as best she could. Her law enforcement career was proof of that, and her mother’s remarriage was another step toward healing. But the hole in her heart caused by the premature loss of her beloved sister and best friend would never completely heal.

“Yes, it does.” She didn’t trust herself to say more. While she allowed herself to cry when she was alone, Veronica always sensed her mother needed her strength more than her tears. Traci was a force of nature, having survived first a divorce when her first husband left—raising an addict daughter and battling poverty had broken their marriage—and then Tawny’s death. Veronica was so happy for her mom that she’d found Leo, the trusting, loving man who’d at first befriended her mother in a grief support group for parents who’d lost their children to addiction. Their friendship had developed naturally, becoming something more only after Traci had plumbed the depths of her maternal grief.

“She’d be so proud of you.” Her mom put her arm around her, and Veronica reciprocated, giving her mother a side-hug that seemed to anchor both of them as they stood in the bright sunshine. Wind whipped at her hair, her scalp practically singing with relief to not be covered with the layers of her cap and wig.

“And I’ve no doubt she brought Leo to you, Mom.”

Traci gripped the side of Veronica’s waist, forcing her to look at her mother, a full four inches shorter than her five-foot-eight-inch height. Mom had the same hazel eyes and auburn hair as she did—aided with the dye from the salon nowadays—but her features always gave Veronica’s heart a jolt of recognition, a reminder of what they’d all lost. Tawny had had the same elfin face and petite build of their mother. Her physical size had been another reason Veronica always felt so protective of her baby sister. But Tawny hadn’t needed Roni’s protection or any guardian. Her strong, stubborn yet effervescent personality appeared as soon as she could babble, and never stopped. Until she was twelve and took up with the wrong friends in middle school, sneaking at first weed, then booze, then illicit prescription pills.

Veronica stared down at the pale pink granite with Tawny’s name and birth and death dates engraved, still carrying guilt that her baby sister’s death was her fault. If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her own life, so intent on getting into college for prelaw, she would have seen the warning signs.

“Come back to me, sweetheart.” Mom’s gaze was still on her, not missing an iota of the emotions that Veronica had never been able to hide from her mother.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not Tawny that’s making you so sad right now, is it?” Zing. Right to her heart.

“This case has gotten…complicated. But I enjoy the challenge, Mom. You know that.”

“Mmm-hmm. Sure you do. Want to save that for Thelma?” A knowing smile formed on her mother’s lips. She cut the chief’s hair, too.

“I’m comfortable enough with Chief Brady that I don’t feel the need to reassure her that I love my job.” She hadn’t told Mom that she was also working for the sheriff on this assignment. Mom knew she was undercover, that was enough. Their town wasn’t small, per se, but it did seem that folks all knew one another, and everyone recognized the Colton name. Besides, the fact that she was also reporting to Callum Colton wasn’t anything Mom needed to know.

“I’m not worried about your career, honey. I don’t like it that you’ve been doing this undercover work, but that’s your job. I get it.” Mom hesitated, focusing her gaze somewhere over Veronica’s shoulder before looking into her eyes again.

Veronica gulped. Uh-oh. Mom was about to ask her—

“It’s just that you’re still so young, and you should be spending more time socializing.” There it was. Mom thought a man would “fix” all that ailed her. Which wasn’t much. Hadn’t been, anyway, until Dylan had stormed back into her life.

“You mean dating.” She couldn’t help the grin that she flashed her mom. “Trust me, if I had more time, I’d date.”

Traci shook her head. “You haven’t been home while you’re off doing whatever this current assignment requires of you, but whenever you work regular shifts, that’s all you do. Go to work, come home, hole up in your apartment.”

“Mom, trust me, I’m not antisocial, I just prefer a quieter life.” It was true. Partially. She’d dated on and off, but she’d never made a connection with anyone that was worth the time and energy a solid relationship demanded. “I’ll date again after this assignment.”

“It’s an observation, is all.” Her mother turned back to the gravestone, her wistful expression making Veronica feel the raw edges of the bottomless hole in her heart again. “You know I went to hell and back when Tawny was using, and then when we lost her. You were right there with me. I’ve found happiness again and I want that for you, too.”

“I went to college right after.” And then she’d immediately gone to the police academy. She hadn’t been around as much as Mom made it sound.

“Of course, that’s what you were supposed to do. But I’m afraid that you never took the time to really grieve your sister. That could be keeping you from letting love back in, honey.”

If only her mother knew that she had actually begun to open up, maybe even “let love in” again. But the very first person she’d ever trusted with her heart since Tawny’s death had tossed it aside.

Not true. Dylan had his own career aspirations.

He’d never given her the impression that he wanted anything less than to do whatever kind of law enforcement work he was capable of. He’d planned to apply for the FBI after a couple of years on the force in North Dakota. It wasn’t Dylan’s fault that the Bureau had come calling first.

A gust of cold wind whipped up a mini tornado of leaves, their hues of mustard, amber and crimson a feast for her soul. She sank deeper into her heavy cardigan. Maybe her fleece-lined leather jacket would have been smarter.

“It’s time to go, Mom.”

“I know.” Her mom shivered, too. “It’s her in this wind. She always sends us a sign, doesn’t she?” A single tear ran down her mom’s cheek, but her skin was already wet. It wasn’t the last tear she’d ever shed, either. This, Veronica knew with all her heart.

“Yes.” Another gust whipped across the cemetery. “C’mon.” She knew this was really difficult for her mother, and while she wanted to be as gentle as possible with her, she also remembered the years when she’d had to physically lift her mother off the ground covering Tawny’s grave.

Traci turned and together they made the walk across the uneven ground back to the walking path, back to Veronica’s car. She’d take Mom out for a quick cup of coffee and her favorite pastry, where the three of them never had a chance to go together. Money had been too tight back then, and now with both of them in much better financial shape, the money didn’t matter. But nothing could bring back Tawny.

The closest Veronica could come to justice for her sister was to bring down Rex, and now with Dylan, they had a decent shot at bringing Slim down, too. To wipe out the cartel.