Page 5 of I’ll Be Watching You

“There’s a little coffeeshop I like in North Peoria, not far from my house, the Wild Pine?”

“Okay, I’ll be there. Seven a.m.” I wrote it down. “Liz—”

But she’d already hung up.

I stared at the phone. I should feel elated that I had a lead; instead, I feared it was another dead end. Still, I had some hope for answers.

Cal came over, rubbed my arms.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“This about your dad?”

I nodded.

“Will it help him?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I have to talk to her.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Cal knew the basics: My father, Dr. Cooper Angelhart, had pled guilty to murdering his colleague Dr. Devin Klein. He took a plea deal—fifteen years for second-degree murder. I had never believed he was guilty, no matter what he said. But after three years of searching and hitting dead ends, I’d let it go after Georgia Rollins vanished and wouldn’t return my calls.

She disappeared around the time she told Liz to call me if she had information. I made a quick note to remember to ask Liz what shelter they met at. There weren’t an unlimited number of facilities for veterans, even in a large city like Phoenix.

I rubbed my eyes. There were so many holes in my dad’s story, starting with the gun. Dad claimed it was his. It wasn’t. I would’ve known. Guns were kind of my thing. He had a .45 Smith & Wesson he rarely used. Klein was shot with a Sig Sauer P320—sleek, compact, and nothing my father ever owned.

And motive? No one could tell me what they argued about. My dad wouldn’t even talk about it. And why had he brought a gun that night in the first place? Why did it take him two days to confess? Why did my mother go along with it when she damn well knew the man she loved and raised five kids with would never kill anyone in cold blood?

None of it added up.

“Talk to me,” Cal said gently.

“I need to be in North Peoria at seven.”

“Then we better go to bed early. Unless you’d like me to leave?” he added with a slight frown.

I shook my head. “Don’t go. I just . . . I might not be completely present tonight.”

He took my hand, led me back to the table.

“Let’s start by finishing dinner. I might have dessert.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Dessert? Is that a euphemism?”

He placed a hand on his chest. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Miss Angelhart. I made gelato.”

My mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

“I never joke about dessert.”

Cal got up, walked over to my fridge, opened the freezer, and pulled out a container I didn’t recognize. He brought it to the table with two bowls and spoons. I reached for it.

He slapped my hand. “It needs to sit ten minutes. Be patient.”

“I can’t believe you made gelato. And it’s chocolate.” I was more than a little impressed.