Page 53 of Shadow Justice

Linc gave her the same look he’d given her all those years ago. “You can talk to me, you know.”

Reid shifted beside her. “There’s an active investigation connected to Sanctuary. We can’t discuss details.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.”

Linc sat back, frustration tightening his mouth. Age had taken some of his strength, maybe some of his stamina, but none of his instincts. Holly could see how much he disliked being set outside the circle of information. She also saw the worry beneath it. Not just for Reid, but for her.

Linc’s voice dropped, becoming sharper as he pinned Reid with a look. “You keep her safe.”

Reid nodded. “I will.”

“Don’t say it like a soldier taking orders. Say it like a man who understands what the price is if he screws up.”

Reid was silent beside her, and Holly’s pulse caught hard enough to hurt. “I understand,” he said.

Linc held his gaze long enough that Holly almost forgot to breathe. Then he nodded once and picked up his coffee. “Good. Now tell your sister to stop calling me before eight in the morning to ask if I’ve eaten. If I wanted a parole officer, I would’ve committed a crime.”

The tension broke just enough for Holly to laugh.

“I’ll pass that along,” Reid said.

Linc looked at Holly again. “You’ll come back?”

The question caught her off guard. “Of course.”

“Bring Blue. He has bad manners, but I like him anyway.”

Blue thumped his tail beneath the table.

Holly leaned over and kissed Linc’s cheek before they left. “Thank you for calling about the muffin emergency.”

“I provide purpose where I can.”

She chuckled. “You provide demands.”

“Same thing.”

Reid patted his grandfather on the shoulder, leaving the bakery box on the table. Holly clipped Blue’s leash on, and they stepped back into the sunlight with the old house behind them and too many thoughts crowding the space between her and Reid.

Neither spoke until they reached the truck.

Blue leaped into the back seat, then stared at them with deep impatience. Holly climbed into the passenger seat and looked back at the Fleming house. Linc stood at the living room window now, coffee in hand, watching them.

“He knows something’s wrong,” she said.

“He always knows when something’s wrong.”

The dog park sat on the north edge of town, tucked near a walking trail with a view of the foothills and enough open space for Blue to turn himself into a speckled missile. On a Sunday morning, the place had a handful of regulars: two golden retrievers chasing a tennis ball with religious devotion, a corgi barking at a shepherd as if size were a mere technicality, and an elderly terrier sitting beneath a bench judging everyone.

Blue entered like royalty returning from exile.

Holly unclipped him inside the gate, and he shot across the grass toward the goldens, ears flying, tail high. For a few minutes, she let herself watch him run. Blue knew nothing about murder or old cases or men who left before morning. His whole world was scent, speed, grass underfoot, and the possibility that every dog might become a friend or a herding project.

She envied him.

Reid stood beside her near the fence, hands in the pockets of his jacket, watching Blue make a dramatic turn around the shepherd. Sunlight caught in Reid’s dark hair and along the edge of his jaw. He didn’t look tired or rumpled in any obvious way, but it showed in small details: the faint shadow under his eyes, the stiffness in his neck from sleeping at her breakfast bar, the way he rolled one shoulder as if his body had a formal complaint with the night’s arrangements.