“No.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong about my group.”
“How do you know?” West asked. “What do you talk about in your sessions? Has anyone shared anything out of the ordinary lately? Did they meet someone new? Make a friend? Take a trip?”
Tina rubbed her forehead. “That’s all covered under counselor-patient confidentiality.”
“Are you kidding me?” West bristled.
“You know I can’t tell you any of those things.”
West ground his teeth. “Even in the aftermath of all this, you still want to keep secrets?”
Tina looked away. “You can ask them anything you want to know. I’m sure they’ll tell you. And I’ll tell you anything I can about my day. About the moments before and after the shooting. About the figure. Anything that won’t break my patients’ trust, but I owe them that. I took an oath.”
West braced himself for a long day. Prying secrets from Tina was a task he’d never had any success with, and frankly she was right. What he wanted to know was covered under confidentiality laws, unless she’d suspected criminal activity. In that case, she had an obligation to report it, but she’d already declared the group’s united innocence and probably wouldn’t change her story. “Okay,” he conceded. “Fair enough. I’ll ask my men to question the group members. What do you say about coming with me to the station while they do that? It sounds like you spoke to the victim just before the incident, and it seems you were also the closest to him by proximity.” His gaze slid over the bloodstains on her rain-soaked blouse and pants. “I need to get an official report from you, and I’d like to continue the interview while the details are fresh. I imagine you’d like to get away from here for that.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then, Miss Ellet, let me walk you to my car.”
Tina climbed inside the sheriff’s cruiser, shaking off memories of similar rides as a girl. Every time her dad had caused a scene at a park or ball game and was hauled in for a night in the drunk tank, Tina was escorted home by a nice deputy, often by the former sheriff. West’s dad. Eventually, she’d smartened up and steered clear of her dad before he could insist they go anywhere together.
She buckled in and winced as the condition of her hands and clothes registered. “Oh.” She rubbed her stained fingers against the ruined material of her pants, but it was no use. A tremor rocked through her as memories of the gunshot came rushing back. Tina shook her hands out hard at the wrists and released a shuddered breath. “Can...” She swallowed against the painful lump in her throat. “Can we make a pit stop at my house? I’d like to get a dry change of clothes before we go to the station. I don’t think I can concentrate like this.” She bent and stretched her fingers in the air above her lap. “Please.”
West gave the gas pedal a break, seemingly torn between giving her what she wanted and following his protocols. West had always been a stickler for doing the right thing, and that probably didn’t allow for a trip to an old girlfriend’s home before taking her formal statement.
“Which way to your place?” He dropped his sopping wet hat between them, then ran a hand through his hair.
She raised her brows in surprise. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d been changed by time. “Left on Canyon Drive. We’re in the River Park neighborhood.” She balled her shaking hands into fists and set them on her lap.
“Who’s we?” West asked, sweeping his gaze to her naked ring finger.
“Just Lily and I,” she said. “My daughter.” A hot tear stung the corner of one eye. Lily had come too close to being an orphan today. She pushed her focus beyond the passenger window. “And Ducky.”
“Ducky?”
She sighed. “The dog.”
“No Mr. Ellet?” he asked. “Or maybe you have a new last name?”
Tina touched the bare skin where a wedding ring had briefly dared to dream. “We weren’t married long enough for me to get it changed. I hadn’t realized there was a hurry.” She turned her stricken face to his, chin up, jaw tight. “I met him about two years ago, right after I moved back to town. We were married after a few months, and he died four weeks later. I never got to tell him about Lily.” She silently cursed her chattering teeth for betraying her show of strength.
West gave her a long, silent look. “How old is Lily?”
“Four months.” Tina had seen the expression West was giving her before, though never from him. Pity. “It’s fine. We’re okay. He was here and gone like a dream. Sometimes, I think if it wasn’t for Lily, I’d wonder if he was real.” The pain was real. The loss. But it was true: her short time with Thomas had felt more like a movie she’d seen long ago than an adventure she’d truly been part of.
“I’m sorry about your loss. Lily’s, too. Is she home now?”
“No.” She batted stinging eyes. “She’s at Mary’s. That’s the sitter.” Somehow West’s condolences to her daughter meant more to her than anything else he could have said.
“What happened?” West asked. “I’m not trying to pry. I’m just getting caught up. It’s been a long time.”
“I don’t mind.” It was strange being on the other side of a confessional for a change. Her spilling her troubles and someone else nodding patiently as the story unfolded. “Hunting accident.”
“You didn’t know him long before you married.” A hint of agitation edged his voice. “Then he just died?”
“Basically,” she answered. “He went up to the mountains for the weekend and never came home.” He’d asked her to go along on that trip, but she wasn’t feeling well enough to make the hike to the cabin. It wasn’t until after he’d left that a pregnancy test confirmed the reason for her fatigue and nausea. Lily was on her way. Tina had had big plans for springing the news when Thomas returned, but fate had other ones. “Two State Highway Patrol officers came to my door.”
“I’m sorry,” West said again, before she went any further. “I wish you hadn’t had to go through that.”
“Me, too.”
When he glanced her way again there was curiosity on his brow. “How’d you meet him? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “He spoke to me at the garden center a few days after I moved back here. I was buying redbud trees.” A small smile touched her lips. “He helped me plant them in my backyard.”
West grunted. His eyes narrowed, but he kept them focused on the road.
“I asked him once if he knew you,” she said, feeling a little guilty for having asked one man in her life about another.
“And?”
“He laughed. He said he’d never had any reason to run into the sheriff.”
“Lucky guy,” West muttered.
Tina tried not to wonder if there was a dual meaning behind his words.
The pair rode in silence for several long blocks. West turned sharp blue eyes her way from time to time, rubbing the dark shadow of stubble on his cheeks without speaking.
“What?” she asked.
He shot her a small smile. “I shouldn’t be surprised you’ve done so well despite it all. Remember that time you dared me to jump off that old rope into the swimming hole on New Year’s Eve?”