FOURTEEN
Nathan sat in his vehicle in the parking lot at the county offices and stared at the doors.
Erin had suggested Nathan needed to learn more so he could make an informed decision about what to do, considering that his father had put him in an impossible situation. Having had some time and space away from the incident—okay, only two days—he decided, depending on the outcome of his conversation with Henry today, that he would tell him what Dad had said, which honestly wasn’t that much. The simple fact was that if Henry talked to Dad’s boss back East, he could probably find out as much as Nathan had been told. Dad’s police department would know he’d been looking into a specific case and could reasonably assume the shooting might be related to this case, especially since Dad’s boss had steered him in another direction. Still, if there had been a cover-up, someone could have deliberately concealed knowledge of the case Dad had been looking into.
And that’s why Nathan couldn’t let it go.
But he felt like he was going in giant looping thought circles and getting absolutely nowhere.
He hopped from his vehicle, strode across the parking lot, then entered the county sheriff’s offices. He ignored the looks of surprise as he weaved between desks on his way back to Henry’s office. He found the sheriff with his back to the barely cracked door while he talked on the phone. Nathan could see him through the window, and unfortunately, he could hear some of what he was saying.
He hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, and then felt more than awkward.
Nathan turned to walk away, but then caught a few words he couldn’t ignore, so he lingered near the door.
“Nobody’s going to dig into this, I can assure you.”
Yep. Now he was definitely eavesdropping.
His heart pounded at the words. Nathan shut the door quietly, then knocked. Henry ended his call as he turned. His eyes widened when he saw Nathan. In two strides he was at the door and opened it, waving Nathan into his office.
Henry’s left eye subtly twitched, irritation coming off him in waves. “I told you to take some time and get some rest. And what happens? You—”
“I what? Got swept away when a dam failed? How was I supposed to know—”
Henry held his hand up, signaling for Nathan to stop. Nathan didn’t want to stop, so instead he ground his molars.
Henry sagged. “I’m sorry, Nathan. I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat. I was worried when I got the news that the dam had failed. Jack had informed me that you might be there at the crime scene.”
“I wasn’t at a crime scene. The scene had been released by then, okay?”
Henry’s frown was one of pain, and he moved behind the desk and eased into his chair. “I can’t say that makes me feel any better. The fact you were there means—”
“That I wanted to be where Dad and I had fished ever since I was a kid. I had hoped that memory hadn’t been destroyed, and now I’m not so sure it hasn’t been replaced with ... with...” Nathan couldn’t finish the sentence. “The whole place is messed up now. First, he was shot right there in front of me, and then the torrent washed everything away.”
Nathan hadn’t come here to pour out his frustration. For that, he might need a therapist. Henry might suggest finding one, and Nathan didn’t want that from him, even if it was department policy. He took the seat across from Henry, putting the desk between them.
Henry tapped a pen against his desk, then finally lifted his gaze to Nathan. “What’s the latest?”
“We’re still waiting for him to wake up.” Nathan glanced at his cell. “Mom said she would call or text as soon as he does.”
“It’s nice of her to stay by his side like that.”
Nathan shrugged. He still didn’t understand his mother staying next to her ex-husband’s side as if they’d remained married for the last twenty-plus years. But they’d remained friends over the years, and apparently, Dad had no one else. His cousin Ned was down in Ecuador on a mission trip. So if he did have other friends and family, anyone back in Boston, where were they?
“I take it you have something you need to tell me or you wouldn’t have come in,” Henry said. “Did you finally decide to share what your father told you?”
Henry’s words on the phone still rang in Nathan’s ears.
“Nobody’s going to dig into this, I can assure you.” Who had Henry been talking to? Nathan bit back what he wanted to say.
“Actually, I was wondering if West has learned anything about the shooter.”
Henry’s head bobbed. “There was another guy out hiking in the area. He might have seen something. West is going to talk to him. I just got off the phone with your dad’s boss—Lieutenant Sullivan, Gifford PD. As you know, one of your father’s past cases could be connected to the shooting, though we have no indications that’s the situation yet. Sullivan has someone looking into Newt’s previous cases, and we’ll let them do it. Obviously they’re going to be more familiar with his investigations. They’ll let us know if they identify any that need to be further examined.” Henry dropped the pen he’d been tapping against his desk and leveled his gaze at Nathan. “I understand how hard this is for you, son. But can you trust your fellow detectives to do their jobs? After all, your father is one of us—an officer of the law—and we want that shooter as badly as you do.”
Nathan wanted to question Henry about what he’d overheard. Why would Henry tell Dad’s superior that no one was digging into his dad’s shooting? And then turn around and ask Nathan to trust his fellow detectives? The office started to tilt. To anchor himself, Nathan stared at photographs and awards on the wall behind Henry. Before he could get a word out, Henry continued.
“Now do me a favor and drive over to Bozeman and hang around until your father wakes up. Get out of town, in other words.” He hung his head. “When I heard you were down by the river when the dam broke, you almost gave me a heart attack, Nathan.”