The First Death (Columbia River, #4)(9)

She tried to take comfort in Evan’s description.

I can’t believe he’s gone.

A black hole formed in her chest. Ken had been an anchor, a confidant. His death would leave a gaping empty space in her life.

But their last encounter had not gone well. Ken had been short-tempered and snapped at her during a training exercise, calling her incompetent. Rowan had immediately whirled in his direction and ordered him not to disrespect her. He’d never spoken like that to her. Ever.

And she’d never spoken to him like that either. But Ken had triggered her. Few things did. But she’d suddenly heard her ex-husband’s voice in her head. His constant criticisms that had contributed to the end of their short marriage.

But worse to Rowan was that neither she nor Ken had apologized. They’d ended the training day in silence, each going their own way.

I should have called him.

Now it was too late.

Tears burned again.

“Is he married? Have kids?” asked Evan.

“No. Neither. Three ex-wives. The last divorce was a year ago. I know all of the women. I can put you in touch.”

Evan frowned. “You know all of them? Then the two of you have been close for a long time.”

Rowan’s throat seemed to close. “Very close. He saved my life a long time ago.” A thought struck her. “Where’s his dog? A black Lab.”

“County animal control has the dog. Ken’s body was found because the dog led a camper to your friend’s tent.”

Tears threatened again. “Of course she did. Juno is the best dog. The two of them were inseparable.”

How is Juno going to get through this?

Her mind immediately weighed the best options for Juno. She was the love of Ken’s life, and their teamwork had been perfection. “The best place for Juno right now is with Ken’s third wife. Her dog and Juno are best buds. I’ll give you her contact information. She’s the other woman in this picture.”

“Thank you.” Evan held out his hand, waiting for her to return the phone.

Rowan took one last look at the photo, thankful she had the same image stored on her computer because it was a good picture of everyone. They were a close group, but Ken had been the glue that held them together, and she knew it’d never be the same. She gave Evan the phone.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I can tell you were close to him.” Compassion filled his tone.

“Yes.” She couldn’t say anything more. Her lips quivered as she tried to smile.

Reluctance crossed his face. “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt him?” he asked, his tone hesitant.

Rowan understood the question was part of his job. It felt abrupt and wrong immediately after she’d received devastating news, but Evan needed to collect information as rapidly as possible to find Ken’s killer.

She exhaled and considered the question. “I don’t. It sounds cliché, but everyone liked him. He was generous and kind. I can’t think of a cross word anyone has ever said about him. And if he had conflicts in his life, I’m unaware of them. Shannon—his most recent ex—would be the best person to ask. They’re still close.” She paused. “Were close.”

“That will be my first stop.” He touched her upper arm and gave a light squeeze. “I’m really sorry, Rowan.”

The sincerity in his eyes calmed her. “Thank you.”

“Text me Shannon’s full name and contact info,” he said. “I’ll want to talk to you again in a day or two.”

“I can stop by.”

“I’ll let you know when.” His gaze went to Thor, who’d abruptly stopped in the field and turned his head their way, his ears forward, as if he knew something had happened with his owner. “I know you have a good comforter.”

Rowan smiled at the dog. “I have the best.”





5


Evan liked Shannon Steward. The woman gave off a bustling energy that spoke of efficiency and directness. Ken Steward’s third wife had been on her way to a doctor’s appointment when Evan called her about Ken’s death, but she’d immediately turned her car around and headed to the county shelter. As with Rowan, one of Shannon’s initial questions had been about Juno’s location.

SAR people love their dogs.

He’d seen it in Rowan’s words and actions with Thor. The comfort and care of the dog always came first.

Shannon had taken Ken’s dog home and then met Evan at the sheriff’s department that evening. They were in the detectives’ small break room. It was more welcoming than the department’s stark interview rooms, and they often used it when they needed to speak with families. It had a microwave, small fridge, and coffee maker along with a round table and half a dozen mismatched chairs. The other detectives knew not to come in to refill their coffee mugs when the door was closed.

Shannon wiped her eyes as she faced Evan at the table. He knew she was in her late fifties. Her hair was a pale red, worn in shoulder-length curls, and he would have guessed she was ten years younger. She was well freckled and wore shorts and hiking boots, clearly someone who loved to be outdoors. “He was such a good man,” she said, echoing Rowan’s opinion. “He loved to help people.”

Evan thought about how many times he’d heard that during past cases only to discover dozens of secrets held by the victim. Secrets about crimes committed, other relationships, or financial problems. He never made an assumption based on other people’s opinions; he had to experience it for himself.