Why not take a walk through town? Or go back to Pelican Point? Or find a beach to stroll on? Perhaps in one of those places she’d find the answer to the question that was front and center in her mind.

Stay—or go?

“Hey, Jack—everything okay?”

A hand clapped him on the back, and Jack turned. Sergeant Steve Adams of the Oregon State Police cocked an eyebrow at him.

Jack coaxed up the corners of his mouth. “Fine. Just ready to call it a night. Or should I say morning?” He was already an hour late checking out, but a three-car pileup—with injuries—in the closing minutes of a shift took time to sort out.

“I hear you. This was a messy one.” Steve surveyed the scene, where troopers were directing traffic while tow trucks jockeyed into position to haul away the damaged vehicles.

“Thanks for sending in reinforcements. This one was more than I could manage alone.”

“Not a problem. You and the Hope Harbor police have covered for us with calls that required a faster response than we could manage. Any plans for the weekend?”

Jack rested one hand on his holster. “The usual, for the most part.” Other than mailing in a mouth swab to confirm he was a father and following up on a loan request from the woman who’d broken his heart. “How about you?”

“I have to work on a talk I’m putting together for a middle school next week. Superintendent wants to enhance law enforcement visibility—and image—among our youth. Can’t fault the intent, but I’m not that great with kids.” A flash of pain echoed in his eyes.

Jack studied him. What was that about? After all, Steve was a father. Or had been, until tragedy took his only son. And based on conversations he’d had with his state police colleague over the past three years, there hadn’t been anything obviously amiss with that relationship.

However, he’d thought the same about Steve’s marriage until the man and his wife separated last summer. That had been a surprise. From what he’d seen, the state police sergeant was kind, considerate, and conscientious.

But who knew what went on behind closed doors?

Despite the placid, in-control image people presented to the world, their private lives could be a mess—as the events of the past two days demonstrated in his own life.

Jack went with a generic response. “I agree the image of law enforcement could use bolstering—and kids can be a receptive audience. I’m sure it’ll go fine.”

“Yeah.” Steve fiddled with a clip on his belt. “This is the first one I’ve done since . . . that Beth won’t be reviewing, though. She used to read all my presentations and always had excellent suggestions.” The man cleared his throat and watched a tow truck separate two interlocked bumpers with a loud wrench. “You see her much?”