After turning down another street, she parked in front of a quaint old house built of honey-colored stone, with a green-shingle roof that looked like thatch in need of mowing. Alex got out of her car and went up the walk. Learning that Colin’s grandfather lived here hadn’t been all that difficult after Alex discovered the citizens of Sobriety liked to chat about one another. That was why it had been so easy to find Colin at Maggie’s Diner earlier today. Now she climbed the steps of the porch and lifted the old-fashioned brass knocker. After a moment the door swung open, and a shaggy white terrier came shooting out.
“Oh, hell,” said a gravelly voice from inside the house. “Grab him, will you? He knows I want to give him his medicine. Won’t let me near.”
An elderly man appeared at the door, and Alex obligingly scooped up the little dog. It squirmed in her arms but then peered at her curiously.
“Hey, you’re adorable, aren’t you?” she murmured.
“He already knows that,” said the man. “Makes him think he can get away with murder.”
Still cradling the dog, Alex examined the old man, who had shaggy white hair of his own. He was unmistakably Colin’s grandfather—the clear, intense blue eyes were exactly the same. So, too, was the straightforward, no-nonsense manner.
“Bring him along, will you. He answers to Dusty,” said Herb McIntyre, obviously not concemed about other introductions.
Alex followed him down a hall and into a spacious kitchen with porcelain sinks, checkerboard tile and an honest-to-goodness wood-burning stove.
“Sit down,” said Herb.
Alex sat the dog in her lap. Herb approached with a pill in hand. Dusty buried his head stubbornly.
“Maybe you should disguise the pill,” Alex said. “You know, hide it in some food.”
“Tried that,” said Herb. “Too smart—he knows. Just eats around it. Now, think you can hold his mouth open while I pop it in?”
“Well...” Alex began doubtfully.
And just then Colin McIntyre appeared. He was tall, as she’d thought, and seemed to fill the doorway. Right now he was gazing at her with something she could only call disfavor.
“So,” he said. “You and Herb have met.”
“Of course we have,” said the old man. “From the look of her, she’s that pretty psychologist Denise told me about, the one you had breakfast with this morning.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Colin told Alex, “news travels fast in Sobriety.”
She nodded, unable to say anything at the moment.
“Have to get this damn medicine down somehow,” Herb said. “Vet’s orders.”
“Maybe he just needs a little distraction,” Colin suggested.
He pulled up a chair next to Alex. Their knees brushed as he petted the little terrier. Odd that he had such powerfully built hands, yet they could be so gentle...
Dusty was enjoying all the attention, and he relaxed enough for a pink tongue to loll out. Herb popped the pill in, and Colin held the dog’s jaw shut, forcing him to swallow. Now Dusty got an offended look and hopped down from Alex’s lap.
“Done,” said Herb.
A silence descended. Herb glanced from Colin to Alex. “Well,” he said. “Guess you want me out of here. From what Denise says, you two have things to talk about. Come on, boy.” He left the kitchen, the little dog trotting after him.
Alex and Colin were still sitting knee to knee. She pushed her chair back awkwardly.
“Mr. McIntyre—”
“Colin, remember?”
“Right. Colin.” She felt foolish, didn’t know why, and that just made her feel more out of sorts.
He stood, took a mug from the cabinet and set it on the table. Then he opened a tin, pulled out a tea bag and filled a kettle with water. He placed it on a gas oven that looked too modern next to the lumbering wood-burning stove.
“Funny, but you don’t strike me as the domestic type,” she said.
“I can boil water. Don’t expect much else.” He turned his chair around and straddled it, resting his arms along the back.
“You remembered that I drink tea,” she said, feeling more foolish than ever.
“Sometimes I’m observant,” he said. “Take right now, for instance. You’ve tracked me down, Alex Robbins, but you’re still wondering if you even want to talk to me.”
“Of course I want to talk to you,” she said. “Why else would I be here—”
“You tell me,” he said.
She stared into his eyes, and her pulse did something erratic. She reminded herself how important her research was, the one thing giving meaning and shape to her life these days.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, “about that phone conversation I had with your boss the other day. He said some pretty interesting things... about that apartment fire, for instance. Apparently you were more than a little reckless in the process of rescuing that little boy. So reckless that both you and your partner almost lost your lives.”
She knew she was trying to goad Colin, unsettle him somehow. But all he did was gaze back at her impassively. The kettle whistled and he went to turn off the burner. After splashing some water over the tea bag in Alex’s mug, he sat down again.
“Don’t you wonder about it yourself?” she asked. “Why you need to risk your life.”
“I do my job,” he said. “That’s all.”
Alex shook her head. “It’s never that simple.”
“Guess it’s not,” he said. “Look at you, Alex. You keep saying you want to study me...but what you’d really like to do is catch the next plane back to Chicago and never see me again.”
She stared at him. “What makes you think—”
“Like I said, Alex—I’m observant.” He looked at her speculatively. “Have to admit I’m curious. What’s making you stick around here, doing something you don’t want to do?”
How neatly he’d turned the conversation from himself. Worst of all, how perceptive he was. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to feel this strange unease.
“Might as well drink your tea,” he said.
When she picked up the mug, her fingers trembled just the slightest. She set it back down quickly. What was happening to her?
She didn’t know. But whatever it was, it had something to do with Colin McIntyre. And that scared her most of all.
CHAPTER TWO
IF YOU WERE COMING to northern Idaho by plane, the Silver Lake airport was the closest you could get to Sobriety. Not that the airport was anything to shout about—commuter flights and twin engines were usually all that landed here. The fact that Colin’s fifteen-year-old son was arriving by charter would probably cause a commotion.
Colin stood at the window of the small airport building, staring out at the tarmac. The last time he’d seen his son was a month ago, and as usual the encounter hadn’t gone well. His ex-wife said he was just trying too hard with Sean, trying to make every visit an event. But when you were divorced and you only got to see your kid every so often...you had to make it an event, didn’t you?
Colin had an image of the way things should be when you had a fifteen-year-old son. The teenage years were supposed to be the special