Allan stood. “I spoke a few minutes ago with the officer who’s stationed there. She woke up from surgery but she’s groggy and confused. Hasn’t been able to identify her attacker yet.”

Darby had deduced that Corinne was lucky to be alive. She’d overheard the officers discussing another body that had been found in the trunk of a car. It made her feel nauseous and she didn’t let her gaze land on any of the photographs on the timeline or laid out on the desks. That reality was too grim, especially as her therapist might be the killer.

Eban ran a hand through his short hair. “Tell them not to push her too hard. She’s been through enough. Let her rest overnight.”

Even so he looked frustrated by the delay.

Darby wanted to ask a million questions but knew she wasn’t supposed to be involved in the case at all. The fact she was even in the room was highly irregular, but the cops weren’t handling actual evidence here and she hadn’t been left alone even once.

Eban checked his phone. “The FBI team is still stuck in Anchorage, but Lincoln Frazer is working on a profile he promised to send over as soon as he feels it is complete.”

Allan’s gaze flicked to her. “We have some new trace evidence results in. Autopsy can’t be conducted yet, until…” He cleared his throat.

Darby knew she was getting in the way. “I’m going to the restroom.”

She held up her hand when Eban went to come with her. “I’m safe, Eban. I’m quite capable of making it to the bathroom and back.”

He trapped her by the upper arms and stared down into the eyes. “Just don’t leave.”

She wanted to say the same thing back to him. “Just don’t leave” and maybe add a “me” at the end.

Except what would he do here? What opportunities were there for a man with his talented skill set in a small city like this? He was one of the top negotiators in the country if not the world. More importantly, perhaps, what opportunities were available for her elsewhere? She wouldn’t give up her dreams of studying the mysteries of the earth’s crust.

She headed away from Eban and let him get on with his job, questions and uncertainty spinning inside her head.

* * *

Signy was talking to the booking sergeant whose son went to high school with Aiden when the guy shot a look over her shoulder and gave her the nod. She turned and was knocked a little off kilter by the presence of Elliot Byrne.

“Detective.”

“Mr. Byrne.”

The booking sergeant went through to the back, but Signy was aware of all the members of the department watching them closely.

“I thought I’d told you to call me Elliot.” His voice was deep and warm.

She refused to be drawn. “How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if I could buy you dinner?”

Her mind blanked. “You want to buy me dinner?”