Ridley Pearson - In Harm's Way

He looked over at her, the harsh light playing across her face. “When did Kira go missing, exactly?”

“I don’t know exactly. A couple days after the Advocates dinner.”

“The right timing and she’s in the clear.”

“Do not go there.”

“Believe me, I’d rather not. Occupational hazard.”

“You don’t really believe that? Kira, I mean?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not about what I believe. It’s what the evidence proves. You know that. And before it proves, it suggests. Right now, it’s suggesting things I’d rather it didn’t. I don’t like any of this, believe me.”

“It was a few nights after the Advocates dinner that she took off. That’s all this is about. She was upset. At me. At having a flashback in the middle of her talk.” She drew in a deep breath. “You know, I have this weird memory of you coming by here one night, but I’m not real clear on which night it was, or what was said.”

“Nothing was said.”

“Because?”

“Because you wouldn’t open the door.”

“That’s ridiculous. If I didn’t open the door it was because I wasn’t home.”

“Or it wasn’t you. I saw someone on the couch.”

“My door doesn’t have a window in it.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

She crossed her arms. “Well, maybe it was me. For the record, I don’t like guys peeping on me.”

“For the record: I care about you. I was worried about you.”

“Well, don’t be. I’m fine.”

“And Kira? Is Kira fine?”

“You’re beginning to be annoying.”

“You’re beginning to piss me off.”

“Maybe it’s late.”

“Maybe it is. I’d like to bring a team up here. I’d like to eliminate her from consideration, and that’s the best way to do it.”

“Don’t you need a warrant for that?”

“Do I?”

“It’s not my property, Walt. I, or I guess you, can ask Michael and Leslie, if we can find them. They’re in Tibet or Bhutan or something. She’s on a meditation retreat, so who knows? It could be weeks. A month or more.”

“It’s to help eliminate Kira from-”

“I get it, okay! I understand it. I’m just saying that Michael and Leslie aren’t easy to find.”

“Find them,” he said. “For Kira’s sake.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not that complicated.”

“It’s late,” she said.

“You want me to go.” He made it a statement. “Your earlier invitation?”

“I don’t think I realized how tired I was.”

“Why-” He caught himself. There were questions he’d been wanting to ask her for some time now-her name appearing on St. Luke’s emergency room manifest; her refusal to answer the door that night. He could have asked them anytime. He could have asked them now. But he held off because once asked, he couldn’t take them back; once they were asked, he would have answers and he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers. He couldn’t recall a time that as sheriff he’d not wanted answers, the feeling so foreign to him he felt upended. She was protecting Kira, and for him to go after the girl meant he would have to go through her, and it was the last thing he wanted.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Let me help clear her,” he said. “I want to clear her.”

“I’ll try,” she said. “I promise.”

“If she was threatened. If it was something like that-”

“Walt, she wasn’t here that night.”

“Yeah, but you see, that’s part of the problem. The autopsy couldn’t establish an exact time of death-the cold nights, the hot days. It screws everything up. We have a witness-”

He felt her tense and knew she tried to hide it.

“But it doesn’t establish a TOD for us. Time of death,” he explained. “We don’t know which night it was. It’s one of two. But you seem to think otherwise. Can you help me out here?”

“How?”

“Explain to Michael and Leslie how important this is for Kira. If they complicate this, it only makes things worse for her.”

“I told you I’ll try to find them. It isn’t always so easy.”

“I’m going to say something as a friend. Not as sheriff. Okay? For a minute let’s say I’m not wearing the uniform.”

“Okay.” She crossed her arms more tightly. Any more and she’d have trouble breathing.

Collecting himself, he looked up into the darkness of the trees, the shadows from the headlights playing tricks on the eyes.

“I know you’d do anything to protect her. I understand that urge. But don’t put yourself in the middle of this. The law is real clear about that kind of thing. Believe me, I don’t want you or Kira caught up in this. But a thing like this, it sorts itself out eventually, and there’s no going back and changing what was said, or done, before it does. There’s no changing that stuff.”

“Some cases don’t get solved,” she said. “Some cases go cold.”

He felt his breath catch. A few seconds earlier he’d been wondering if she’d somehow managed to substitute her name for Kira’s on the emergency room manifest-if she was sacrificing herself for the young woman. Fiona showed no signs of head injury. Had Kira taken off to hide her injuries? Was she waiting for a bruise to heal before returning? He’d been thinking he needed a look at the actual medical records. But that had all evaporated with her pushing him off the investigation. Could he let the case go cold? Could he do such a thing? A month earlier he wouldn’t have even considered such a possibility.

“You’re right, it’s late. Neither of us is thinking clearly.” He stepped toward her and kissed her on the cheek, but she stood rigid and unresponsive.

He whispered, “I hear you.”

“I… My memory is all messed up.” He saw now that her face was stained with tears.

“Shhh.”

She faced him and met eyes with him. She looked frightened-terrified, was more like it-and he pulled her to him and held her.

“There’s so much to tell you,” she said.

“I’m here.”

“I want to tell you.”

“It’s tricky,” he said. “Some things may be better left unsaid.” He wondered where that had come from. He couldn’t-wouldn’t-ask her to betray Kira. There were other ways he could do this. He could leave her out of it. “Get some rest.”

“But I want to…” she said.

“Sleep on it.”

She nodded, his uniform shirt damp with her tears. She clung to him as he gently pushed her away and walked back to the Jeep. He stopped and looked back at her in the headlights, wondering how he could let such an opportunity pass. Wondering who he’d become.

Bea licked him as he climbed in. He pushed her into the backseat and drove off, intentionally avoiding a glance into the rearview mirror.

As lead investigator on the Gale case, Walt was shown and was required to sign off on the case paperwork. The longer and more involved a case, the greater the paperwork. He was no stranger to bureaucracy. As sheriff, he was in charge of people management and budget oversight; he essentially ran a decent-sized company with a charter to solve crimes and keep the peace, work that was typically delegated to others. He and Nancy had developed a routine, a rhythm to the administration of his office that allowed him, as with the Gale case, to keep his hand in the work that interested him, while keeping the office work moving ahead. Like any worthwhile assistant, Nancy was crucial to the process. She knew what had to be done when, and saw to it, chasing him down for signatures and ensuring he attended the necessary meetings with the county commissioners and politicians.

He finished signing a stack of papers and slid the next in front of him, recognizing the top sheets as the inventory from Gale’s rented SUV. He’d been so obsessed with his own handling of the baseball bat found outside the vehicle that, while he’d been briefed on the contents of the vehicle itself-including the victim’s missing wallet, found under the seat; blood evidence, not on the headrest but near the ignition and on the steering wheel and passenger-side floor mat; and the car rental contract, discovered inside the console lock box-he’d not given a great deal of thought to any of it. The wallet contained no cash; the blood evidence had been collected and sent off to the lab, along with the rental contract to be processed for fingerprints. The vehicle’s interior and exterior had been processed for latent prints, with little more than a few smears and smudges to show for it.