Evan stepped off the stone path and came down the gentle slope of grass to meet her.
Rowan loved her home, an inheritance from her grandfather. It was a small ranch-style house on a gigantic lot that backed up to acres and acres of . . . nothing. Scrubby bushes, tough tall grass, some patches of tall pines, and lava rocks. But beyond the acres of nothing, she could see the tall Cascade mountain range. There was little snow on the mountaintops. It’d been a hot, dry summer in Central Oregon, and she looked forward to a cooler September starting the following week.
“Detective Bolton,” she said with a smile. He was a good-looking man, she acknowledged. Tall, fit, and his shirt gave a hint of well-formed shoulders and biceps. Strong arms were her weakness. She knew the detective was about her age, but he seemed older. He had the aura of someone who carried a big burden from his past, something that kept him from fully enjoying the present.
The nurturer in her had always wanted to fix it.
But she knew not to try to heal brooding men. They had to tackle it themselves.
“Hey, Rowan,” he said. “Sorry to just show up unannounced, but I wasn’t far away and thought you’d like to know that Geoff Jensen confessed to his wife’s murder this morning.”
Relief shot through her. “That’s fantastic.” Then anger took over. “That asshole,” she spit out. “He tried to lie his way through it for a few days?”
“He did. Claimed he’d been at his gym when he was actually out driving around looking for Wyatt. He’d seen the boy dart out the back door but was too busy choking his wife to pursue him until later.” Rage flared in Evan’s eyes. “I don’t know what he planned to do when he found the boy. I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Where is Wyatt now?”
“He’s staying with Summer’s sister, who has two boys around his age. She and her husband will try to adopt the boy if it’s legally possible because it’s doubtful Jensen will get out of prison before Wyatt is an adult. They seem like a good family.”
“A happy ending,” said Rowan, immediately regretting her words. “Not happy,” she revised, “but the outcome could have been much worse.”
“Definitely.” Evan shoved his hands in his pockets and looked past her. “Thor’s looking good.”
Rowan glanced back to see Lily and Thor in a rough game of tug-of-war, Lily shrieking with laughter.
“He’s doing well. Happy and full of energy like always.”
“I knew he’d find Wyatt.”
Rowan smiled and met Evan’s gaze. And blinked.
Something has changed.
His eyes were calm. No hints of brooding or painful baggage. Even the strain that had always been around his mouth was mostly gone.
Maybe he met someone. Good for him.
A tiny pang of regret echoed in her chest. It was her own fault. She should have asked the detective out when she had a chance. But the moments had always felt wrong. They worked together very well, and she had been hesitant to do something that could affect it.
I’m meant to be a woman who just has dogs.
The corner of her mouth quirked. She’d always suspected that would be her fate. A disastrous, brief marriage nearly a decade ago had kept her firmly in favor of being single.
But it didn’t mean she didn’t like to look. And date. And enjoy the men who came and went in her life.
Her life didn’t suck. It was pretty damn good.
She turned to look at Thor, the only man in her life at the moment.
“When you watch your dog, you look like a proud parent,” Evan said. “My sister looks at her kids the same way.”
“I heard something about a fire at your sister’s home recently?” Rowan asked.
“Yeah. Mainly ruined furniture and smoke damage.”
“Her husband was hurt?”
Evan shifted uncomfortably. “It wasn’t the fire that injured him, but he’s home and doing really well. My niece and nephew stayed with me for a while. Great kids.” His face lit up as he mentioned them. “The family is starting an animal rescue on their acreage.”
“Good for them,” said Rowan, enjoying the happiness on the detective’s face. “I appreciate you stopping by to tell me about Geoff Jensen.”
Evan grew serious. “I had another reason.”
Rowan waited. The detective appeared to be putting his thoughts in order, and her curiosity grew.
“I was called to a scene this morning, and there was no ID with the body, but the lock screen on the victim’s cell phone is a group picture.” He paused, a sympathetic look on his face. “I think you’re in the picture.”