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Contents ( 83)
  1. Contents
  2. Author’s Note
  3. Chapter 1
  4. Chapter 2
  5. Chapter 3
  6. Chapter 4
  7. Chapter 5
  8. Chapter 6
  9. Chapter 7
  10. Chapter 8
  11. Chapter 9
  12. Chapter 10
  13. Chapter 11
  14. Chapter 12
  15. Chapter 13
  16. Chapter 14
  17. Chapter 15
  18. Chapter 16
  19. Chapter 17
  20. Chapter 18
  21. Chapter 19
  22. Chapter 20
  23. Chapter 21
  24. Chapter 22
  25. Chapter 23
  26. Chapter 24
  27. Chapter 25
  28. Chapter 26
  29. Chapter 27
  30. Chapter 28
  31. Chapter 29
  32. Chapter 30
  33. Chapter 31
  34. Chapter 32
  35. Chapter 33
  36. Chapter 34
  37. Chapter 35
  38. Chapter 36
  39. Chapter 37
  40. Chapter 38
  41. Chapter 39
  42. Chapter 40
  43. Chapter 41
  44. Chapter 42
  45. Chapter 43
  46. Chapter 44
  47. Chapter 45
  48. Chapter 46
  49. Chapter 47
  50. Chapter 48
  51. Chapter 49
  52. Chapter 50
  53. Chapter 51
  54. Chapter 52
  55. Chapter 53
  56. Chapter 54
  57. Chapter 55
  58. Chapter 56
  59. Chapter 57
  60. Chapter 58
  61. Chapter 59
  62. Chapter 60
  63. Chapter 61
  64. Chapter 62
  65. Chapter 63
  66. Chapter 64
  67. Chapter 65
  68. Chapter 66
  69. Chapter 67
  70. Chapter 68
  71. Chapter 69
  72. Chapter 70
  73. Chapter 71
  74. Chapter 72
  75. Chapter 73
  76. Chapter 74
  77. Chapter 75
  78. Chapter 76
  79. Chapter 77
  80. Chapter 78
  81. Chapter 79
  82. Afterword
  83. About the Author

I’ve lived in LA, I’ve lived in Maine,

New York City and the Midwest Plains,

But there’s only one place I consider home.

When I was a kid—the house we owned.

The girl turned her bright blue eyes toward the singer. “Are you crying, Aunt Kayleigh?”

The singer blinked. “Well, a little, Mary-Gordon, but you know sometimes people cry because they’re happy.”

“I didn’t know that. I don’t think I do.”

“Not everybody.”

“Where does this go?” she asked, picking up a pair of jeans. And placed them carefully in the drawer at which Kayleigh pointed.

“TIDE’S TURNED.”

Dance heard the man’s voice behind her in the lobby of her hotel. She wasn’t alarmed. She knew his voice by now.

Though for a moment she didn’t recognize P. K. Madigan. He was wearing civvies—blue jeans, a plaid shirt, cowboy boots and a tan cap embroidered on the crest with a hooked fish flying out of the water.

“Chief.”

She was headed out—on her way to Bishop’s house to continue the interviews of Kayleigh’s family—but she diverted and walked up to him. She glanced into the bar. She almost asked, “You want some ice cream?” but decided: “Coffee? Soda?”

“Naw,” the big man said. “See you’re on your way out. Had to stop by and talk to you.”

“Sure.” Dance noted his slumped posture, very different from the in-your-face pose when she’d met him at the scene of Bobby’s death.

“Here’s the thing. Anita’s playing it by the rules. Nobody in the division can talk to me—for their sake too. I’m cut out completely. And you’re in charge now.”

Ah, the meaning of the turned tide, she realized.

“Not exactly in charge.”

“More than anybody else. Damn. Wish I’d listened to you back in that interrogation room and let that son of a bitch go then.”

Her heart went out to the detective. He seemed lost.

“I asked the sheriff if I could consult or anything. But she said no. It’d look bad. Might prejudice the case.” He gave a laugh, harsh and cold. “Didn’t know whether she meant the case against the killer or the case against me. So, I’m sidelined.”

“I’m sorry it worked out that way.”

He waved his hand. “Nobody to blame but myself. I feel worse for Miguel. He’s got a wife doesn’t work and three kids. Won’t have any savings.” He was awkward now. “I’ve got to stay off the radar, Kathryn, but I’m just wondering, is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t know, Chief. I’m interviewing, Charlie’s working on the evidence, Dennis is still looking into if anybody else has a motive to kill Bobby and the others.”

“Yeah, sure. I understand.”

“You could just take some time off, get some fishing in.”

“Funny about that,” Madigan said. “Yeah, I like it. Been going out every weekend for years. But fact is I spend more time thinking about cases than I do about the fish.”

“You get some good ideas, floating around?”

“Oh, you bet I do.” A grim smile. “But the thing is, until now, I’d get outa the boat, put my uniform back on and do something about it.”