TWENTY-SEVEN
Tension rolled over his shoulders. Not sergeant. Not lieutenant or captain. But chief. Nathan thrust out his hand to take Chief Hadlow’s. Dread filled his gut, sending the bile right up his throat.
The man was dressed in plain clothes, so Nathan asked, “Can I see some ID?”
“Certainly.” Hadlow pulled out his credentials.
Nathan eyed them, but he didn’t feel better for the knowing. “What are you doing here?”
Chief Hadlow narrowed his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Since you found us here at the airport, I’m sure you know that we’re leaving Boston.”
“A moment of your time, please.” He gestured to seating over by the windows.
Nathan hesitated, but what choice did he have? The police chief had tracked him down and followed him to the airport. Nathan attempted to calm his racing heart as he slid into the chair catty-corner to the seat Chief Hadlow chose.
Erin sat on the other side of Nathan.
The man edged forward, one elbow against his thigh. “So you came here to find out who might have shot your father. You went to Newt’s home and ran into an intruder. Then I got word that you were in a shootout at a cemetery.” Chief Hadlow spoke matter-of-factly.
“That’s right,” Nathan said.
Erin had suggested laying everything on the table. Nathan agreed it was time to do that, at least here and now. “I overheard my sheriff promising Dad’s boss that no one would dig into it.”
Nathan stared into the man’s intimidating dark-blue eyes. He looked to be in his mid-to-late fifties—same age as Dad. A few wrinkles lined the edges of his eyes, and his brow furrowed. Nathan wasn’t the only one whose heart raced. The chief might have the hard edge of years of experience, but this situation clearly had him worried.
Would Erin have the same assessment?
The man leaned back and studied Nathan. “Lieutenant Sullivan was getting reassurance that your detectives would leave the past-cases search to my department. We’re walking some tight ropes here. You might have figured that out yourself.”
Nathan soaked in those words. “My father doesn’t know who he can trust. Neither do I.”
“I understand. But I’m the good guy here. Lieutenant Sullivan wanted Newt off the case to protect him, because we believe he was being targeted. Warned away. And now I’m asking you to go home and stay out of it, to protect you.”
Nathan wanted to believe him. But ... “Despite your efforts, Dad was shot anyway.”
And I don’t know if I’ll ever get him back.
“You’re in over your head, Campbell. This isn’t your jurisdiction or investigation.” Hadlow lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “Someone in-house could be working both sides. I’m looking into it, and I want to keep things local.”
“I think it’s too late for that, considering someone followed Dad to Montana.”
Hadlow hung his head, then slowly lifted it. “Any news?”
“Not in the last twelve hours. Someone would have texted me if there was a change. He might never recover.”
“And he wouldn’t want you in the same danger. I’m afraid you’ve put yourself into the thick of it by coming here.”
“What do you suggest, if I might ask?” Erin slid to the edge of her chair, injecting herself into the conversation.
“Watch your back,” Hadlow said. “Go home and stay out of it.”
“It would be easier to do that,” Erin said, “if you would tell us what we’re staying out of. What was the case he was working? What cold case was he investigating? Since we’re already in the thick of it, in your words, then help us by telling us at least that much.”
Chief Hadlow cautiously glanced around them. The airport wasn’t busy at this hour, but a few people were making their way through to catch the middle-of-the-night flights. He inched forward and leaned in. “Someone is cleaning house.”
“Or do you mean retaliating?” Erin asked.