“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said.

What was he going to say? It was all in a day’s work? That wasn’t really it. “You’re welcome. I brought that up because while I was there, we chatted, you know, to kill the time.”

Erin angled her face, her brows furrowing. “Did she seem all right? I mean ... right after it happened.”

“I’m no mental health counselor, but if anything, she seemed disturbed that she was in the hospital. She denied that she had tried to kill herself and said she couldn’t remember what happened. But beyond that, when the conversation lightened up, she seemed happy enough. You can’t blame yourself if you’re thinking you missed the signs. All her friends missed the signs too.”

“I’m the psychologist, remember?” Erin’s shoulders bunched around her ears, then dropped as she also stared at the water.

A safe place to look. A person could let the sound of the rushing water, the sight of it carry their anxiety far away—except in his case, where right now it reminded him of his father’s shooting.

He wanted to reach out to her. Find a way to reassure her. But he doubted he was the best person to do that. So he changed the subject. “She told me that you have a cold case podcast.”

Erin’s face tightened, and she lifted her gaze from the water to him—he could swear her blue-green eyes were the same colors of the Grayback River as it reflected both the sky as well as the tree-covered mountains around which it flowed. “No one’s supposed to know. I mean, only a few people know.”

He offered a grin, hoping to disarm her. “I gathered. I couldn’t find anything about your podcast on the internet, but I started with your name.”

“I use pseudonyms for all the players—writers, editors, narrators.”

She still hadn’t shared the name of the podcast. “Pseudonyms so you can keep it anonymous.”

“It was a little complicated to set up, but doable.”

“Why so secretive?”

“Why so many questions?”

“It’s intriguing, that’s all.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, and he wasn’t sure if it was because the sun had broken through the approaching storm clouds and hit her in the face, or for some other reason.

He had a feeling she was onto him. “What?”

“I think there’s more to your questions.”

Yep. “You’re as sharp as ever.” Didn’t mean he was ready to tell her his reasons, though.

That earned him a laugh, a sound he hadn’t heard in far too long. I’ve missed you. He shook off the unwelcome emotion.

He wanted to know more about her endeavor into exploring cold cases. Erin could be a resource for him. That is, if he continued along this precarious path. If Nathan told anyone what Dad had said, it should be Henry—so why was he leaning toward talking it through with Erin?

He’d been advised by both his father and Henry to go with his gut, and since the stakes were high—he’d seen that for himself firsthand—he would continue until he figured it out. He might need Erin’s help.

What am I doing?

The ground trembled—just barely—but he felt it in his toes. In his bones. Or was that just him quaking, shivering through with anger that his father had been shot, and on top of it, he was left with the burden of a volatile secret? Since Nathan couldn’t be involved in investigating his dad’s shooting, withholding what he knew was treading into dangerous territory. Was there a way for him to skirt around the edges without technically interfering? Henry had given him some “leeway,” as he put it.

“So why’d you come here today? Really?”

Erin turned her back to the river. “Terra called. She and Jack are worried about you. They couldn’t get ahold of you,” she continued, “and asked me if my psychology experience might tell me where you would be. Imagine that.”

He angled his head and couldn’t help the hint of a smile, even in the midst of this tragedy. “And did that help you?”

She gave a slow shake of her head, along with a small hitch in the corner of her mouth. “It wasn’t necessary.”

“You knew where I’d be.”

“I told them you would be here, but I was informed you aren’t to investigate this crime. Jack had been here earlier and said you weren’t here, so they didn’t believe you would return to the crime scene.”