But now, as she looked at him across her father’s grave, she remembered his words as if they’d been a warning. He didn’t wear a white hat because he didn’t really deserve the appellation, the symbol. He didn’t wear a white hat because he knew he’d dirty it.

She was startled when Quinn and Hayley—and Cutter—seemed to be leading Adam back toward her. The dog, in fact, was nudging at him from behind, just as a herding dog would a stray.

Quinn hadn’t blamed Adam for what had happened that night, even though he had been hurt much worse. She had been puzzled at first, since it was so obvious, but realized she was looking at it like someone who had grown up around cops all her life. And rule number one was, you always have your partner’s back.

Adam had not had her father’s back.

“Took you five years to decide you cared enough to show?” The words broke from her before she thought. She didn’t want to have a fight here, over her father’s final resting place.

Adam’s head came up then. And her first idiotic thought was that his eyes were a darker gray than she remembered. “I’ve been here every year,” he said quietly.

He had? Or was he just saying that?

“I’ve run into him here twice,” Quinn said, as if he’d heard her doubts.

A long moment of silence spun out, seemingly magnified by the peaceful setting.

“I didn’t know your father,” Hayley finally said, her voice soft. “But from what I’ve heard and read, he would not want his beloved daughter to spend the rest of her life angry.”

“I’m not. Most of the time.”

Her gaze flicked to Adam in time to see him wince. It gave her no pleasure to have hit home. And, as on that day in the hospital, he said nothing.

“Amanda, it wasn’t his fault,” Quinn began, but somewhat to her surprise, Adam cut him off.

“It was. And she knows it as well as I do. I deserve every bit of what she feels about me. I was his partner, and I didn’t have his back.” He shifted his gaze to Amanda. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. I didn’t see you in time, or I would have waited.”

He walked past her then and stopped next to her father’s headstone. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, and she found herself wondering what he was thinking. Then he straightened, stared at the stone for a moment. And lifted his right hand toward his forehead as if about to make a formal salute. But he stopped short.

Like he did in everything.

And then, silently, without another look at her, he walked away.