“Fortunately it’s not across the river,” he said. “Are you sure it’s yours?”
“It looks like mine, and if it’s not, then that could mean someone else went over the falls.” She didn’t think that was the case.
Spotting the kayak exhilarated her. Now they were getting somewhere. Not that she feared he doubted her words—not anymore, at least—but the kayak with a bullet hole or two in it would go a long way to boost her theory, one she hoped Detective Bradley was also formulating.
They made their way around boulders and roots, and then to the edge of the riverbank where the broken kayak had wedged between rocks. Tori gasped at the sight. She wrapped her arms around herself.
That could have been her body. Broken and lifeless.
Ryan’s frown deepened. He appeared shaken as he pressed his hand over his mouth then rubbed his chin.
Then, seeming to pull himself together, he reached in the pocket of his jacket and tugged out a small camera. “Don’t worry. We’ll get Jerry, our tech, out here now that we know it’s part of a crime scene, but I want to take my own pictures just in case.”
Ryan walked around the kayak and took photographs from various angles.
She peered at the front portion. “See, just there. A bullet hole.”
“Here’s another.” He pointed, then crouched and took close-ups of the holes.
Tori looked around for the oar, but she doubted she’d find it. “I’m surprised a bullet went through the material, but I guess it all depends on the caliber of bullet and the quality of the kayak materials.”
“Right.”
“We’ll have to go up above the falls to look for rifle shells,” she said. “It’s a big area to search.”
“Finding a shell doesn’t mean it belonged to this particular shooter,” he said. “We need bullets, too.”
“Your lab can get ballistics, can’t they?” Tori had to be careful what she said. Ryan was probably kind of touchy about the limited resources of his job compared to hers, and she didn’t want to sound superior. But, well, the FBI had superior training, facilities and labs. The best, in fact.
He pursed his lips and eyed her as he got on his radio and asked for evidence collection and retrieval of the kayak. “We’ll need to wait here to make sure no one disturbs it intentionally or otherwise, although if they had intended to do that, I think the kayak would already be gone.”
Tori started toward the falls. “I’ll hike up topside and look for rifle shells. There were more than two shots fired, even though there are only two bullet holes in my kayak.”
Ryan grabbed her arm and gently squeezed as he pulled her toward him. “Are you serious? What makes you think whoever shot at you won’t try again? You’re not going up there.”
“In that case, what am I even doing out here with you?”
“Good question.” He worked his jaw as if angry with her. Angry with himself.
His concern for her chipped away at the wall around her heart. She reminded herself that his reaction didn’t mean that he cared for her on a personal level. Of course he would be this concerned for anyone. Right?
“I don’t think the shooter is still here,” she said. “When I got on the river, I had an eerie feeling. You know the one. I felt like someone was following me. Like someone was watching me. But I don’t sense that now.”
He scraped a hand through his hair, messing with the slicked-back look. “Come on, you can’t trust a feeling like that. Not saying you should ignore it when you sense that someone is watching you, but you can’t be certain you’re safe just because it doesn’t feel like anyone’s watching you.” He searched the ground near the kayak. For footprints? Too many hikers had been by the kayak today for forensics to find anything. After a minute, he lifted his gaze to look at the woods. A group of senior citizens hiked up the trail toward them, lost in their conversation. They smiled and bade them a good day as they passed.
The shooter wouldn’t try again here today with people out on the trail, would he? The couple who’d found her hadn’t been at the top of the falls where she’d been forced over. She’d been alone up there when he’d shot at her. Tori rubbed her arms and stared at the woods. She absolutely wouldn’t let fear take hold of her or stop her. “We have to find who did this, Ryan.”
Her comment drew a severe look from him, one that she knew well. Tori averted her gaze.
“Don’t you have a job back in South Carolina to get back to? How long are you staying again?” The friction between them edged his tone. “Bereavement leave doesn’t give you but a week or two, does it?”
“I...I don’t know,” she said.
“What?”
She hung her head. Closed her eyes. “You’re right. Officially, I only have two weeks, but I’m considering taking an indefinite leave.”
“Why would you do that?”
A feral emotion flashed in his gaze. She understood the deeper meaning behind his questions. She’d given him up. She’d left him for an FBI career—now he wanted an answer as to why she would give it all up for this investigation when she wouldn’t give it up for him. She offered a one-shoulder shrug. “Mom and Dad are devastated. They’ve lost a daughter, Ryan.” She looked in his eyes and took in the blue-green hues. “I need to be here for them and...”
Something shifted behind his gaze—and for the life of her, she couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. Again, she had the strong sense that he still cared about her. That he’d never stopped. Her next words would drive an even bigger wedge between them. She’d hurt him terribly when she’d chosen her career with the FBI over a relationship with Ryan. She’d wanted more than working law enforcement in a northern California county. She could have taken a job and worked with him, but she’d taken the FBI’s offer.
Tori drew in a breath. She might as well say it. “I need to make sure her killer is caught.”
He lifted his chin to search for words in the bluest of skies. “And you don’t trust me to do that.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant. You can’t go home because you don’t think we’ll find the killer without your help.”
“Ryan, please tell me that you understand. You would do the same if it was one of your siblings, someone you loved dearly, no matter who was investigating.”
When he looked at her again, she saw resignation. “You’re not here in your capacity as an FBI agent, so I’m going to ask you not to interfere. Trust me to do my job, Ms. Peterson.”
The air rushed from her lungs. Oh, come on. She took a step toward him, trying to think of what to say to get him to see, though she wasn’t sure why she wanted him to understand. “Ryan, please. I...I trust you to do your job. I promise I won’t interfere with your investigation.”
He nodded and huffed, then surprisingly gave her a wry grin. “I hear what you’re saying. And what you’re not saying. I know you, Tori. You have your own investigation going.”
Sarah... “While you’re looking for the person who killed four people, I’m looking for the person who killed one person. Sarah. You can’t get in her head like I can. You can’t walk in her shoes or think the way she would have thought. That’s all I’m doing.” She and Sarah were sisters. No one could know her better, even with the fact that Tori had lived far from Sarah for four years.
His forehead furrowed. Eventually he would come to the same conclusion about whom the murderer had intended to kill—the one target—if