People, mostly, sucked.

The fog would return. March in the Pacific Northwest? Oh yeah. She’d see rain and fog and more snow before she left—if her boss held her to the two weeks he’d ordered her to take. She’d already been laying the groundwork for an early return, but she couldn’t ask her sergeant for at least a week. That gave her three more days here to suck up her punishment before plotting her return. Maybe she could sneak back early to LA and grab a case before Lex even knew she was in town. He probably expected as much, so what would be the harm?

It’s administrative leave, Kara, not a vacation. You lost it with a suspect.

Lex’s voice bounced in her head. She wished she could make it shut up.

The snow that had built up along the banks was nearly melted, except in the shadows the sun couldn’t touch. No one else was running this early. Liberty Lake was a tourist town during the summer when the population more than doubled, but in March? Only the local yokels. One of the benefits of living in the middle of effing nowhere was that she didn’t have to see anyone if she didn’t want to. She loved Los Angeles, but she didn’t like all the hordes of people. Fortunately everyone in LA tended to ignore everyone else. She took comfort in that—unlike going to high school in Liberty Lake where everyone knew everyone else’s business.

She wasn’t naturally a people person, though she could be if she had to. She could be anyone she needed to be. That was her job.

Her grandma wanted her to move back to Liberty Lake permanently. If Kara was going to do anything for anyone, it would be for Em.

“Spokane isn’t far. They need detectives in Spokane. The nice policeman who didn’t arrest you when you vandalized that car in high school? Remember him? His mom—Bridget, I think. Yes, Bridget Maddox. She’s always asking about you, says her son talks about you from time to time.”

Such was the life here—where no one forgot anything. She’d slashed the tires and dented up the car of a bastard who’d drugged and raped Kara’s one real friend. People forgot about that, because, you know, no fucking proof of rape. But no one forgot what she did to the rapist’s damn car.

Of course Kara remembered Brian Maddox. He’d been a cop in Liberty Lake at the time. He’d stopped her from doing something more stupid than vandalism, taught her more about right and wrong, crime and punishment, than her parents ever had. He hadn’t wanted her to drop out of high school, but when she was eighteen, she had had enough. She got her GED, and he then suggested she test for the police academy.

“I’m transferring to Spokane. More opportunities. They could use a cop like you. You have great instincts, Kara, especially for a kid. The sky’s the limit with a little training and experience.”