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“What did happen in that cabin? Do we know?” Charles leaned forward with his hands folded together. This was his serious,I’m in chargeposition. He used it whenever he wanted to yell. “It seems to me, once again, that we’re taking Lila Ridgefield’s word on everything. We have to because she’d been leading us around the whole case.”
But he wasn’t wrong about that. Getting there just after the altercation, not knowing what they’d said and fought about, picked at Ginny. “What are you suggesting?”
Charles focused on her. Frowned and sighed and gave her the fullI’m pissedshow. “I’m saying with or without Pete in that cabin, this case would have ended the same way. With morequestions than answers. With two dead men and a woman the public views as a vigilante hero. She is untouchable.”
Pete shrugged. “I can live with that.”
“Oh, really?” Charles’s voice grew even louder. “See, I gave an order. I had an understanding with the State police and FBI, and you two violated it.”
And there it was. The real reason for all of this, for launching into the screed in front of the full office. “This lecture is because we made you look bad in front of your important friends?” she asked.
“I’m in charge, not you. Do you understand me?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “Well?”
Pete exhaled. “Yes, sir.”
“Yes,” she said without rolling her eyes, which she thought was a huge triumph.
“You’re both on leave. I don’t want to see either of you for a week. Not a word to the press or that woman with the podcast. Prove to me you can follow orders, or you’re fired.” He looked down at his desk blotter and treated them to a shooing gesture. “Get out.”
SHE WALKED OUTof the office and made it halfway to the coffee before Pete’s voice stopped her.
“Ginny...”
She turned around and saw the panic on his face. The frown and the furrowed brow. Time to be the bigger person—again. “It’s fine.”
Pete swore under his breath and took a step closer to her. “It’s not.”
Actually, it wasn’t. It might never be. “We have to work together, Pete. Political types will come and go. They don’t wander out in the field or put their lives in danger. We do that. And I need to be able to trust you.”
“You can.”
She snorted. “It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.”
“I messed up, but I get it now.”
She doubted it. “What do you get?”
“Lila. Your reaction to her.”
“Huh.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. Explain.”
“Seeing her there, holding on to that screwdriver in a death grip... It was as if she thought if she let go, then Jared would rise from the dead and attack again.”
Ginny could picture it. She hadn’t been in the room but had no trouble reliving the moment with him.
“A piece of her probably did believe that.” Pete’s pained expression pushed her to elaborate. “Imagine being her and having your life destroyed by your father’s betrayal. By him doing the worse thing imaginable. Then his actions steal your mother away, leaving your trust and sense of safety irreparably damaged. Your life gets flipped again by your husband and the one person you think you can trust—your brother-in-law—turns out to be the worst of them all.”
He was wise enough to wince at the factual scenario she laid out. “What does that do to a person?”
“Beats them down. Without getting help, probably made them more vulnerable to snapping.” That’s what Ryan’s notes had said. Lila had never dealt with the loss. She’d pushed it down, ignored it, and the PTSD had festered until her sense of what she needed and her reality skewed.
He whistled. “So, what happens now?”
“Nothing. I stay home for a few days and annoy my husband and son.”
“No way.” He scoffed. “Wait, you’re serious? You’re going to give up?”
With the trust gone, the last thing she wanted to do was share any part of her thinking with Pete. “You heard the boss.”
