She’d rented it at the airport in Billings, and driving there and back meant about six hours. She and Cord had talked about it; he had an important meeting at the sheriff’s office, but suggested Tina might be able to do it. Before she could ask Tina, she got a call from Russ.

“What are you doing this week?” he asked.

“One thing I need to do is return my rental to the airport. I’m not sure who’s—”

“Why didn’t you ask me? I can do it. I’ll drive my car to Billings with you, then take you back.”

“Thanks! That would be a huge help.”

“Hey, it’s not like my schedule’s overbooked—or booked at all,” he added wryly.

Shallie still found herself a little surprised when he expressed that kind of self-deprecating humor.

“When do you want to go?” he went on to ask.

“What about today?”

“Works for me. Why don’t we meet here, ’cause I’m closer to the highway? Nine thirty?”

“See you then!” She started to thank him a second time, but he’d already hung up.

Half an hour later, she pulled into the motel parking lot. Russ was already in his car, waiting. They set off a moment later. He was a slow, careful driver and she frequently lost sight of him in her rearview mirror.

Arriving at the airport, Shallie turned in her car, then waited at the entrance while he parked his, thinking they’d find a restaurant inside for a quick lunch. When he finally showed up, he asked if they could walk around the airport for a while first, confessing he’d never flown before, never been anywhere but Painted Pony Creek and its surrounding area. “We’ll have to change that,” Shallie said. If she did return to Seattle, she’d invite him to visit…

Russ commented on almost everything they passed, stopping to read the arrival and departure boards and to gawk at staff in their uniforms. Half an hour later, she finally succeeded in getting him to choose a place to eat, and they had lunch at a chain bar with windows looking out on the tarmac. He was so fascinated by the loading and unloading of planes that conversation was minimal—although Shallie did manage to arrange a day for the motel-cleaning project. Monday, they decided.

Driving home with him, she was afraid all their talk would be of airports and airplanes, but then he brought up Christine and Bethanne. “They’re the big questions for us, aren’t they?” he said. “We need to find out what happened to both of them.”

“We do. You and I have had enough losses in our lives.”