Riverbend Road. RaeAnne Thayne

a subtle little probe, but Andrea Montgomery instantly tensed.

      “The Pacific Northwest,” she said, the words as sharp as pine needles.

      That was certainly deliberately nonspecific. The polite thing would be to let the subject rest but that wasn’t in her nature, police officer or not.

      “What part?” she asked.

      For a long moment, the other woman didn’t answer. She glanced at the children then back down in front of her.

      “Near Portland,” she finally said.

      “Oh, that’s a beautiful area,” Wyn said, hoping to put her at ease again. “I drove through there when I was in college on the way to the coast with friends. I loved it. I especially remember how green it was and all the beautiful gardens. I was struck by the gorgeous masses of flowers in baskets hanging from the streetlamps.”

      As she hoped, Andrea seemed to relax. “It’s an easy place to grow flowers, as long as they like a lot of moisture. I love the wildflowers here.”

      They talked about flowers and gardening a little—not Wyn’s area of expertise, as evidenced by the scraggly flower gardens outside her house. She waited until they reached the driveway of the Craftsman before she slid the next question into the conversation.

      “And what brings you to our beautiful neck of the woods? Do you have family close by?”

      The woman gripped the walking stick with white knuckles—from pain or tension, Wyn couldn’t tell. “We needed a change,” she said tersely.

      She obviously wasn’t going to add anything more and Wyn knew she had pushed her hard enough.

      “Haven Point is a nice place for a new start,” she said, offering up a calm smile, “especially with the new Caine Tech facility opening up. We’ve had many new people move in already and expect even more. We’re happy to have you all.”

      “Thanks,” Andrea said as they walked up the driveway. Wyn helped her struggle up the few steps. “And thank you...for your help.”

      “You’re very welcome. That’s what neighbors do. Are you sure you’re okay from here?”

      “Yes. Fine.”

      Wynona gestured to the other woman’s swollen ankle. “You probably know this already but you should elevate that and ice it. RICE, right? Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation.”

      “Got it.”

      “And if it’s still swollen and giving you trouble in the morning, you may want to see a doc. My friend Devin Shaw is an excellent family doctor and is wonderful with children and grown-ups alike. Hold on, and I can write down her name and number for you.”

      She reached into the front pocket of her backpack for the little notebook and pen she always kept there, just in case. Her best moments of inspiration for solving cases often came while she was hiking and she hated to lose her train of thought. She jotted down a few things then ripped out the paper and handed it to Andrea.

      “Here you go,” she said. “That’s the number and address for Devin’s clinic. I also put down my cell number. If you need someone to drive you to the doctor or the grocery store while you’re laid up, I’m more than happy to help.”

      The other woman looked both shocked and wary at the offer. “Thank you.”

      “You’re more than welcome. The third number is the other essential thing you need to know—the secret delivery number for Serrano’s. That’s the best restaurant in town and they have pizza, sandwiches, whatever kind of comfort food you need and if you tell them I referred you, they’ll deliver it right to your door. They don’t do that for everyone but will help out in an emergency.”

      “That’s very kind of you.”

      Andrea looked overwhelmed but grateful too.

      “Seriously, I’m just up the street if you need anything.” She grabbed Pete’s leash from Will, who apparently was now completely over his fear of big dogs—at least her particular big dog. “I’ll see you guys later. Take care of your mom, okay?”

      “’Bye, Officer Bailey,” Chloe said.

      “’Bye,” Will said with an adorably enthusiastic wave that would have scared away any mosquito within a square mile. “’Bye, Pete.”

      Wyn walked back down the driveway then waited until the woman and her children were safely inside the house. The blinds moved as if someone had made sure they were closed tightly.

      Something wasn’t right with this family. The impression settled on her shoulders and refused to lift. The woman wasn’t simply unfriendly. She was a bundle of nerves and had the hollow-eyed, furtive look of someone with something to hide.

      What? Was she afraid, guilty or both?

      A dozen possibilities flitted through her mind, none of them good. Wyn turned, barely registering the lovely lavender dusk that smelled of cut grass and someone working the charcoal grill.

      It wasn’t any of her business, she told herself. Didn’t she have enough to worry about without taking on someone else’s problems?

      Her gaze landed on Cade’s SUV with the HPPD logo on the side, parked in the driveway of his log home across the street. Like him, she was a police officer. Taking on other people’s problems was sort of in her job description.

      She really should mention her concerns about the new neighbor and ask him to keep an eye on things here, just in case trouble showed up in the middle of the night.

      As a side benefit, perhaps she could persuade him to reduce her suspension by a few days. It was worth a try, anyway.

CHAPTER FIVE

      THIS WAS THE craziest damn day he’d had in a long time and right now all he wanted was a steak, a cold Sam Adams and a nice, relaxing baseball game on the big screen to help him unwind.

      Though he had a perfectly serviceable gas grill and it was fine in a pinch, he preferred the rich flavor from the traditional method so Cade spent a moment lighting the charcoal on his old-fashioned Weber. Yeah, he was a two-grill guy. Sue him.

      Once the coals were smoldering, he headed inside to turn on the game and pulled the two rib eyes marinating in the refrigerator. Since it was as easy to grill two as it was one, he always cooked an extra and used the leftovers for fajitas or a steak omelet.

      He had a very limited skill set in the kitchen, he would freely admit. Most of it involved flames and protein of some sort, though he tried to add fruit and veggies where he could.

      He set the steaks on the counter and reached back into the refrigerator for a beer. He was just grabbing the bottle opener when his cell phone rang.

      Sometimes he wanted to grab the thing and toss it into the middle of the Hell’s Fury.

      As much as he would have liked to ignore the blasted ringing, he knew he couldn’t. It might be an emergency. He was the chief of police and had a responsibility to the people of Haven Point, like it or not.

      A quick check of the caller ID showed it wasn’t a problem in his community but still something he couldn’t ignore. His sister-in-law wasn’t in the habit of calling him for no reason.

      “Hey, Christy,” he greeted her. “What’s going on?”

      She uttered a particularly succinct epithet that basically summed up Cade’s own prior delightful twenty-four hours. “Guess who just called me from jail again? That’s right, you guessed it. Your idiot asshole of a brother!”

      And this day just kept getting better and better.

      He closed his eyes and pressed the cold bottle to the tension headache brewing at his temple. A familiar sense of helplessness settled in his gut, the same feeling he always