Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Norrs looked around the dusty area. “Not paranoid. I just love her.”
Well, shit. Abigail Caine was a predator, pure and deep. She had no problem using people and no hesitation when it came to killing. The farther Huck kept Norrs from this investigation, the better. “I need to interview you.” Well, after he managed to get assigned the case. Somehow.
He and Laurel should’ve stayed in Cabo.
Chapter 4
Laurel settled into the passenger seat of Walter’s brand-new Volkswagen Tiguan and reached forward to turn on the seat heater. The small city of Elk Hollow was about twenty-six miles from Genesis Valley, closer to Everett. It would take them around forty minutes, give or take.
She waited until Walter had driven through town and merged onto Washington 530 before she cleared her throat. “You’ve never mentioned that you had a brother.”
Walter flipped on the windshield wipers as a spring rain began to slash across the glass. “I know. Tyler and I aren’t close. Never have been.”
Okay. That was something she needed to unpack, as Huck would say. “Tell me about Tyler.”
“He’s actually my half brother,” Walter said. “My father died from an aneurysm just after I turned five. So it was just me and my mom through all of my childhood. I went to college and she fell in love and got remarried my sophomore year. Then Tyler came along the next year. He was a surprise. Her new husband didn’t really want me around, to be honest.”
Laurel watched a logging truck slow down up ahead. “Why not?”
“I don’t know,” Walter said, lips twitching at the corners. “Maybe he had this idea of a perfect family, and some twenty-year-old stepson, who was honestly only fifteen years younger than him, didn’t exactly fit the mold.”
So his mother had married a younger man. Interesting.
“Then I graduated, joined the FBI, got married, started my own life. I don’t know . . . we didn’t even spend holidays together.” He shifted slightly in his seat, adjusting his weight like the conversation itched somewhere under his skin.
They had never discussed his ex-wife in any meaningful way. When Walter joined her team, he’d been newly divorced and drinking more than was professionally acceptable. Since then, his behavior had stabilized. He showed no current indicators of emotional volatility or impaired judgment. There was no need to revisit the subject unless it became operationally relevant. “Please continue,” she said.
He hit his blinker and shifted into the left lane to pass a truck. “That’s about it. I mean, we’ve seen each other through the years a little bit, but honestly, the kid turned into this conspiracy nut—anti-government, anti-FBI. Last time we were even in the same vicinity, we got into an argument. It made my mother miserable, and we were both supposed to be there to comfort her. She’d just been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer.”
Laurel turned toward him. “I’m so sorry to hear that. When was this?”
“Three years ago.” He exhaled slowly. “I’d like to say that’s when things started going downhill with my wife and me, but our problems had started long before that. I guess I’m just not that good at interpersonal relationships.”
Laurel disagreed. Walter was easy to be around, easy to work with. He’d embedded himself into her team like he’d always belonged there. Huck’s crew had taken to him just as quickly. Maybe romantic relationships were different, or maybe Walter simply didn’t give himself enough credit.
“Sometimes family is . . . difficult,” she offered, aware that it was a thin and inadequate truth.
He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Difficult. Yeah. You’re exactly right.”
“You haven’t seen your half brother for three years?”
Walter sighed. “Nope. After our big argument, we just saw each other once at her funeral. Didn’t even talk.”
That sounded sad. “I’m sorry, Walter.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes I catch his podcast just to see what he’s up to.”
“Podcast?”
“Yeah. It’s called Eyes Open with Tyler Griggs. He mostly talks about conspiracy theories. Deep-state stuff, chemtrails, shadow governments. He’s always chasing something weird. It’s been a while since I tuned in, though.”
Laurel raised an eyebrow. “Yet he lives in Elk Hollow?”
Red crept up Walter’s neck, the flush sharp against the gray sky filtering through the windshield. “Apparently. I didn’t know. I thought he was still down in San Diego, where my mom lived. According to the woman who called me, he moved to Seattle, then Everett, and now out to Elk Hollow. Cheaper rent, less overhead. Figures.”
Laurel stared out the window, watching the rain trace diagonal lines down the glass. Empathy didn’t come naturally to her. But grief? That she understood. Not just the sorrow, but the awkward fractures it left in its wake. She could picture Walter at that funeral, standing across a gravesite from someone who shared his blood but not his life.
She considered offering platitudes but didn’t know which one to choose. She disliked platitudes. She liked facts. And the fact was, Walter had shown up. That counted.