Silence hung between them as he stared at the Mustang, then again at his mother. He’d come here to talk to her, to ask her questions, but he wasn’t sure now was the time.

“What’s new with you?” she asked.

He got the feeling she was trying to move the conversation along so she wouldn’t full-on sob. He was glad for the distraction too.

With her question, she’d opened the door to talk, and since Ron wasn’t around, he shouldn’t put off his own questions. Or again, maybe Alex needed to adjust his attitude toward the man. Let the past stay far behind him and try for something new. Still, Mom had waited until they were alone to show him the Mustang and officially hand it over. He wondered if Ron would have agreed with her decision.

“Well, you know I’m taking a short break. Vacation time, but not really a vacation. I wanted to see you, of course, but I’m looking into the vandalism at the memorial, unofficially. The county is working on it. But they’ll take my help.”

“I’m sure it’s hard to come back here after living in DC and then who knows where around the world. You probably need to look into the vandalism to keep from getting bored out of your mind.” She chuckled. “What have you learned?”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

Subtle frown lines formed between her brows. “I’m listening.”

“Fifteen years ago, around the time of the accident, before the accident, let’s say. What do you remember?”

“Well, you were there, son. What do you remember?”

Why had she suddenly turned defensive? “I know what I remember. But I’m asking you. I’m working the angle that this vandalism is somehow . . . personal.”

Mom was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “No. It’s been fifteen years. If it was personal, why wait so long?”

“I can figure that out if I know why someone might have an issue with the plaques commemorating those who died on the mountain.”

“Others have died on the mountain. Not just the SAR team that day.”

He scratched his head. “True. But so far, two plaques, two members of the team have been targeted.” Which could mean something, but he wasn’t sure what. Or it could mean nothing and this could be a colossal waste of his time, or as Mom put it, a way to keep from getting bored. But helping Mackenzie left him anything but bored. He’d been told to rest his brain, as if he had some sort of traumatic brain injury and solving a mystery would slow his healing.

Mom closed her eyes. She drew in a breath, and her lips quivered slightly. Oh, he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Had bringing back the memories of that time caused her pain?

“Mom, if this is too hard. . .”