“Yes.” Nester’s eyes gleamed. “But did you expect the lab to find a fingerprint on a casing left by the shooter when Huck’s truck was ambushed?”

Laurel gasped. “No. Whose fingerprint?”

Nester slapped his hand against the doorframe. “The fingerprint belongs to one Mr. Davie Tate.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

Taylor Tate had her son’s dark hair and eyes, but her build was petite. Though the woman had to be in her mid-thirties, tops, her eyes looked older. Faded lines already cascaded out from the corners, and her shoulders hunched forward just enough to show exhaustion. Even so, she sat straight and slightly ahead of her son in the white chairs around the thick glass tabletop. “My son has done nothing wrong.”

“Good.” Laurel held several file folders in front of her while Huck sat like a silent angry sentinel next to her. “Then he should have no problem speaking with us, with your permission.”

Taylor nodded and some of her dark hair escaped the bun she’d tamed it in. “He will talk to you.”

“So you waive your right to have a lawyer present?” Huck asked.

“Yes,” Davie said, staring at the table and hunching his body.

Taylor looked at the now-covered boards behind Laurel and Huck. “We waive a lawyer.” Her tone indicated she didn’t have a choice.

Laurel watched Davie to discern his motivations. “Are you angry at your mother?”

He jerked. “No.” His face flushed.

Taylor’s posture softened. “It’s okay if you are. I know I spend too much time working in Seattle, but we need the money. Being mad about that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Davie looked up and sideways at her before hunching over again, crossing his arms over his stomach. “I’m not mad.”

Taylor rubbed her eyes.

Laurel couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. It was rare for her heart to overtake her head, but today it did anyway. “Why did you lie to us, Davie?”

“I didn’t.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

“We know you had a sexual relationship with Dr. Sharon Lamber.”

Taylor jolted. “You did what?”

Even Davie’s ears turned red. “So what?”

Taylor shook her head as if the world had stopped making sense. “Sharon Lamber? Tommy’s aunt? When did this happen?” Anger pressed her lips tightly together.

Davie shrugged. “Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I guess. She was funny and she liked me. And . . . I mean. You know.”

“You’re a child, Davie,” Taylor exploded.

“Ha. I’m as grown up as anybody else,” he countered. “She saw me as an adult. I felt like a man with her.”

Laurel fought the urge to gag. “She was an adult and you’re a minor, and she took advantage of you, Davie. That isn’t your fault.”

“I’m old enough to consent. She told me,” Davie said.