She thought she had reached them, and they had told her later she had brought several of the jury to visible tears. When the killer had been convicted and sentenced to the harshest punishment possible under the present governance, she considered the draining effort worth it.

And in the aftermath, it meant nothing.

The man who had destroyed her life had been taken away, the attorneys went back to their office, the cops back to their work, while she went home to a shattered ruin.

She remembered standing in the living room, feeling numb. And that she simply couldn’t go back to the condo she’d been renting any more than she could let go of the place where she had grown up, where she had shared so much with him, where every room was a reminder. Any more than she could pretend everything was normal.

He’d told her once he’d only kept the place for her sake, that as soon as she moved so would he.

Some fancy condo, where somebody else can fix the pipes and the roof and do the gardening.

And where will you work on the car?

Okay, a condo with a garage.

She felt moisture gathering in her eyes at the sweet memory of that teasing exchange. And the fact that he hadn’t actually done it, after she’d told him it would make her sad to let go.

And then she heard Adam swear under his breath. “I can’t do anything but hurt you, can I?” he said, his voice quiet.

For once, he hadn’t. It had been the poignant memory, not anything he had done. Or not done. “I... It wasn’t you.”

She didn’t say “this time,” but he looked as if she had.

And she didn’t understand why, but had to admit his expression made her feel guilty somehow. Just as the realization of how he felt—after five years—had surprised her.

She’ll tell you what I get credit for. Her father dying.

She’d spent five years blaming him nearly as much as she blamed the actual shooter. And it had never really occurred to her—or if it had she had dismissed it as deserved—that he might blame himself just as much.

Not so long ago, maybe even this morning, she would have said as well he should.

Now she wasn’t quite so sure.

Chapter 13

Heedless of the light rain still falling, Adam stood out on the Foxworths’ back deck, staring out through the trees toward the Sound visible between the evergreens. Toward the Cascades.

Toward home.

Quinn came up beside him. “Still in a hurry to get back?”

“I was,” he said, looking at the sky and trying to gauge by the ache in his arm how much longer it would last.

“But?”

He looked Quinn then. “Do you really believe she’s in danger?”

“I think it is a possibility,” Quinn said.