“But she was the one who wanted to come with us,” I protested.

“And I’m in charge for the safety—physical, mental, and emotional—of anyone within the station’s care.” His expression said there was no point arguing with him. “I’ll call to check in with her later and let her know we have a therapist if she needs to talk to someone about what she saw.”

“Good idea.” The knots in my stomach loosened now that I wasn’t in the firing line. But to my irritation, I couldn’t shake a niggle of worry about Kennedy. Sure, she’d tried to manipulate me with her money, but the girl I remembered had a sensitive soul and would have taken a scene like the one today hard. “Let me know how it goes?”

“I can’t share anything private.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

He waved at the exit. “Get yourself a glass of water and decompress with the guys. The day is only just starting.”

Dismissed, I returned to the others.

Unfortunately, the underlying concern for Kennedy stayed with me all day. When the shift finished and my coworkers headed home, I found myself driving to Grace’s place instead. I parked on the side of the road and stared into space, trying to persuade myself to turn around and drive home. Kennedy’s well-being was none of my concern. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. If I didn’t check on her, I’d spend the night worrying and probably wouldn’t sleep well. Better to just get it over and done with.

“Damn,” I muttered as I went up the path to the cottages. I recalled Nate saying she was staying in the same one she’d used back then, so I knocked on the door. For a moment, no one answered, and I thought I was off the hook, but then the door swung inward. My stomach sank. From all appearances, Kennedy was far from all right. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She’d clearly been crying, and she looked nothing like the stylish, aloof woman I imagined she was in Los Angeles.

“Hi.” Even with that one word, she managed to sound confused. “What are you doing here?” She had one hand on the door frame and the other on the door itself, blocking the entrance. For someone who’d been trying to talk to me for days, she was giving off some serious nonverbal cues to leave her alone.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay. The crash earlier must have been difficult for you to process, since you’re not used to seeing things like that.” My voice was strained. Foreign to my own ears.

Kennedy raised her chin. “You’ll be glad to hear I’m fine. You can leave with a clear conscience.”

Yeah, no. Not buying it. Not even a little.