Page 173 of The Woman Left Behind

“It is that.”

“I’d be keen to talk to this guy,” Sanford remarked.

“I would too. We find him, you’ll be my first call,” Harry replied. “You find him, one of those charges is assault. He put a man in the hospital. So I’d appreciate the same.”

“You got it, sheriff. And we’re in the know here in Seattle about what all’s going down there. Good luck with that.”

“Appreciated.”

They rang off and Harry went back to what he’d been doing before Dr. Theresa Pfeiffer called—reading the reports on the complaints lodged that morning—when Rus showed at his door.

Harry’s stomach twisted.

“It’s time,” Rus said.

Fuck.

Harry nodded and picked up his phone. He texted Lillian, not telling her what was about to happen, because he didn’t want her to spend the next ten minutes fretting.

Then he shut down his desk, got up, went to the door, shrugged on his jacket, and he and Rus left the station.

FORTY-TWO

A Fusion?

Lillian

I heard the dogs get restless, then the door opening, and I knew it was Harry because he’d texted he’d be home soon, because the dogs didn’t lose their minds barking and because Harry had a key.

“As you know, I had four units to prepare for their owners today, and I was ambushed by Kimmy. I’m afraid I got in the spirit and bought more than lights and Jawa witches,” I told the oven I was sliding a casserole into. “I don’t have it in me to cypher something healthy. We’re having the last of the alfredo gnocchi casserole, but I made you a salad to go with.”

I closed the oven door, turned, and smiled, because not only was Harry standing there, so was Rus.

So much for our quickie while the casserole heated up.

I moved in their direction, saying, “Hey, Rus.”

“Heya, Lillian,” Rus replied.

I went right to Harry and gave him a lip touch.

When I rolled down off my toes was when I noticed the vibe.

I put my hand to his flat abs. “Is something wrong?”

“Rus has some questions for you, Lilly,” Harry said, his voice tight. “About the days before your parents died.”

My stomach did an impersonation of a pretzel.

I looked to Rus.

“Is something happening?” I asked.

“We don’t know, Lillian,” Rus said. “Maybe. It won’t take long. Just a few questions.”

I nodded and gestured to the kitchen table. “Do you want to sit down?”

Rus moved that way.

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