In the end, he shook hands all around and left, having no sense which side they would come down on. He had the most faith in the lieutenant, even if he was hard to read. Clayton, he thought, might be more inclined to come down on the side of a longtime deputy who had been fighting off an assault.
It might or might not be a good sign that the DA had chosen to involve herself in these interviews. She was obviously pissed that the prosecutor’s office hadn’t been immediately informed so that they could have seen the crime scene before the body was removed. What was critical was whether she believed Zach’s insistence that his statement had been shaded to suit the department.
It irked him to know he had to stay hands-off from the investigation.
He was especially frustrated, knowing how long this could drag on. Ultimately, the prosecutor’s office had to wait until investigators issued a report, and then they’d take their own sweet time in making a decision, especially given the sensitivity of the case. He’d known better than to ask for a possible timeline, but it occurred to him that Tess might have. He’d have to ask her.
He was walking out to his car when his phone rang. He glanced at the name on the screen, winced and muted the phone. This was the second time he’d chosen not to take a call from his mother.
Behind the wheel of his truck, he called Bran instead, expecting to be dumped to voice mail. Instead his brother answered.
“Wondered if you’re free for dinner,” Zach said. “I have some things to discuss.”
Voices in the background told him Bran wasn’t alone. But he said, “Sure. Where?”
Zach had found a diner he liked with a broader menu than the tavern’s. Bran’s agreement was abrupt but unhesitating.
Getting behind the wheel, Zach wondered if this meal would end up cut short the way their first one had, and for the same reason.
* * *
TESS’S FATHER SCOWLED at her as she set grocery bags on his kitchen counter. “I have to read about my daughter’s troubles in the damn newspaper?” he said in the voice still a little slurred as an after-effect of the stroke.
She winced. Wonderful. She should have realized he’d find out about the whole mess one way or another.
No, she reminded herself. Not the whole mess. The campaign of terror, as she had come to think of it, hadn’t made the paper yet.
Abandoning the half-unpacked groceries, she turned to face him. “I didn’t want to worry you,” she said.
He snorted, expressing his opinion without a word.
“You know what the doctor said,” Tess reminded him.
“I don’t want to spend what time I have left in some kind of damn cocoon.”
Her father didn’t swear often. The fact that he’d said damn twice in such a short time told her he was really mad.
She sighed. “Okay. I don’t blame you.”
Tell him or not?
Watching her unwaveringly, he sat at the kitchen table, still a big, vital man. Seeing him immediately after the stroke had been painful. That a tiny clot of blood could steal his ability to form words, to use his right hand, to walk, had seemed unthinkable.
It hadn’t taken her long to realize he was still the same man she had loved and admired for as long as she could remember. His determination to come back from the stroke had been formidable.
He’d begun physical therapy with grim determination. He now swam laps every morning. At first an old friend had driven him to the YMCA. He was now driving himself, in a limited way. And it had been nearly three years.
Maybe, she kept telling herself, the blood thinner really would prevent another stroke. The odds were scary...but he’d beaten them once already.
Dad was all she had left. It had been years since she’d seen her brother more often than every other year for a holiday. Tess doubted she’d see him even that often once their father was gone.
Tess had the sudden, disconcerting thought that Zach reminded her a little of Dad. Zach wasn’t a man who would ever accept defeat, either. And he had that same intensely protective nature.
Making up her mind, Tess sat and said, “There’s more going on than you’ve read in the newspaper, Dad. Promise me you won’t get upset.”
He snorted his opinion of that, too, which made her laugh.