Bryce shrugged. "Wasnt for me. I took over the family ranch instead. You remember the ranch, dont you?"

Harley had a memory of following Bryce up a ladder into the hayloft of an old barn on the back of the property, giggling as the horses stirred restlessly in the stalls below them.

"Sure," she answered noncommittally. She glanced at his left hand, noticing the dark ring on his third finger. He cleared his throat and slipped his hands into his pocket.

"What about you?" he said, tipping his head at the file tucked against her ribcage. "You a health inspector now?"

"FBI," she replied.

"Ah." His eyes brightened with interest. "Working on a case?"

Another image: kissing on the swing behind Bryces parents house as a storm rolled in, bending the yucca stalks and hissing in the tamarisk. The softness of his lips, the roughness of his calloused fingers entwined in hers.

"Harley? Everything alright?"

Harley blinked, forcing the memories back. "Yeah, just a long day. Listen, I should really…" She made a vague gesture with the file.

Bryces body language became formal and polite. "Of course. Sorrydidnt mean to distract you. Mind if I get your number so we can stay in touch?

Harley told him her number while he entered it into his phone. When he was finished, she forced a smile, hoping he couldnt read the turmoil of emotions going on inside her. "It really was great to see you!" she said, pulling away.

"You, too, Harley," he answered, frowning after her as she turned and hurried off.

Harley climbed into her car, leaned back, and took a deep, calming breath. It was all too much too soon. She had gone east to leave all this behind: her absent father, her distant brother, her high school sweetheart and their dreams of a shared future that had seemed so pointless after Kelly went missing, the constant expectation that she would embrace the small-town life she was expected to live.

As if she could go on living in a town where every dime-store and hiking trail reminded her of some adventure she had shared with Kelly.

Rubbing her face, she realized she needed to distract her mind. She needed to get back to work.

Opening her phone, she called Newbury.

"I was hoping youd call me back," he said, not bothering with a traditional greeting.

"Well, you got your wish. Is your offer still open?"

He sounded surprised. "You understand, of course, youll technically be operating as a consultant? Strictly off the books. No gun, no badge, no arrests. Can you live with that?

Harley thought about it for a few moments. It stung to think of doing the work of an FBI agent without the authority to back up her actions, but if that was the cost of getting back to what she was best at, so be it.

I can live with that, she answered.

I cant help but wonder: What changed your mind?"