He folded his sunglasses and hung them on his vest. “What a piece of shit.”

Caitlin’s tears appeared like a surprise party; unexpected, unwanted, and messy. She tried to fight them back, but Scott’s words, so good to hear, so validating, struck deep and true. Her chest ached with each shake.

Scott waited for a gap between sobs, then offered a handkerchief. “Hardly any snot on that.”

Caitlin took the cloth and wiped her upper lip. “Not anymore.”

“When your tears came, what emotion burst through the barrier?”

She crumpled the handkerchief, squeezed it like it wanted to run away, and bounced her tight fist on her knee. “Anger.”

“At Troy Woods, the police, who?”

A word slipped out, barely any breath behind it.

“I have old ears,” Scott said. “Too much amazing music and loud sex. Can you say that again?”

She flattened her fist on her knee, tried again. “I was angry at myself.”

“What did you do wrong?”

She looked toward the shore, pictured herself getting in the car and driving away. “I trusted someone with a secret, and Woods found out and used it against me.”

He gestured toward the file he held. “The part about your mother is true?”

She nodded. “I’d seen her maybe four times in my life up to that point. She had me at twenty-two, gave me up the same day.”

“And your father?”

“Who knows? She never tried to pinpoint the accidental donor. Matthew Bergman, my dad, took her to prom years before all of that. When she got pregnant, he was already a cop and a better person than anyone she’d ever known. He and his wife adopted me.”

“What did your birth mother’s profession have to do with you?” Scott flipped the folder open again. “She’s only mentioned in Woods’s statement, not in the BPD’s reports.”

Both of Caitlin’s hands drew up into fists. “I guess Chief Hartman left out our little meeting.”

Chapter 33

CHAPTER

33

Twenty Years Ago

WITH HER RIGHT eye still swollen one week later, Caitlin closed it and used her left. Chief Hartman had a certification from a law enforcement union, a picture with John Mellancamp, and piercing Paul Newman eyes.

“Sorry about that.” He sat behind his desk. “You need anything? Water, tea?”

She didn’t say her first answer. Less rape. “No. Will Officer Sugar be joining us?”

“Deputy Sugar,” Hartman corrected. “I know Lyle took your initial statement, but he works for the Sheriff’s department. Since your incident happened within the city limits, the BPD will take care of you from here on out.”

He leaned forward with a smile. “Do you like Bloomington?”

“Is this small talk?”

“No, Miss Bergman. I know you’re in a delicate condition.”

The bandages over her knuckles strained to prevent her cuts from breaking open as she clenched her fists. “You mean because of my torn vagina?”