“That hasn’t worked out so well for my family.” Liv felt anger in her chest. She shouldn’t have said it, but Glen’s truck was getting close. He’d surely recognize Liv, stop to see what was going on.

Officer White stepped into Liv’s personal space. She smelled of cigarettes and sour coffee. “At least you still have a family. Sampson’s wife and kids aren’t so lucky.”

Sampson. This wasn’t just about how the documentary had skewered White’s reputation; it was about the death—the suicide—of her partner, Ron Sampson. The news speculated that it was the pressure from being villainized in the documentary. The calls and threats to the station house. The public shaming.

Mercifully, Glen’s Humvee pulled behind Liv’s rental.

“Get back in your vehicle,” White called to Glen as he climbed out of the tanklike cabin.

“Olivia, I heard you were in town. It’s good to see you, dear,” Glen said, ignoring White. “How’s your dad?”

Liv smiled. “He’s okay. Getting himself into some trouble at the home.”

Glen smiled back. “As I’d expect. I need to get over to see him. It’s been too long.” He turned to the cop. “Wendy White, what in the Sam Hill are you doin’?”

“I said get back in your vehicle, Glen.”

“Young lady, I knew your daddy when you were a glint in his eye, so don’t you tell me what to do.”

White’s mouth turned to a slit. “This is police business.”

“Like hell. Uncuff her before you ruin what’s left of your career. For Pete’s sake.” Glen shook his head. “I’d hate to call Sheriff Graham.”

White drew in a breath, bunched her face. She yanked the keys from her belt and unlocked the handcuffs.

Liv massaged her wrists, which were red from the shackles.

The officer walked angrily to her patrol car without saying a word. She revved the engine, then tore off, throwing dirt in the air.

Liv hugged Glen hello.

“I’m sorry about that,” Glen said. “She’s been a mess since that TV show. Whole town’s been outta sorts.”

“I’m sorry about all that,” Liv said, unsure why she was apologizing for holding this shithole town accountable for what it had done to her family.

“To hell with ’em all.”

She smiled at that. “How are you, Glen?”

“I could complain, but I won’t.”

“Doris?”

“She passed.”

“I’m so sorry,” Liv said. “I didn’t know. No one told—”

“Well, all right then,” he said. As when she was a girl, Glen was a man of few words, and even fewer emotions.

“All right then,” she replied.

CHAPTER 33

SARAH KELLER