Why hadn’t she turned on the back porch light? It might not be brilliant, but it would be better than nothing. The slope was sharp, practically ninety degrees, or so it seemed to Sheila as she tried to get down it much too quickly. The ground was covered with leaves, and thanks to the recent rain, they were slick. She was wearing house shoes, and they constantly slipped out from under her. She took another false step and plunged forward. Once again, a tree branch was all that saved her from falling. She was risking her neck out here, running down the slope so fast.
Of course, if she stopped running, her neck would be in much worse shape.
She had to keep going, whatever the risk. She grabbed another tree, trying to lower herself down a particularly steep place. She slowed, gently descending, one foot at a time, and-
Heard the footsteps. Barely ten feet behind her.
She was scant seconds ahead. She had to get to the boat. Had to get there fast.
She let go of the tree and started running all-out down the slope, hell or high water, staying upright as best she could. A few feet later, she lost her balance. Her feet flew out from under her and she fell down hard, the side of her head slamming down against something that knocked her all but unconscious.
A rock? she wondered groggily. Didn’t know. And didn’t have time to ponder. Exerting all her strength, she pushed herself up on wobbly legs, tasting the blood trickling down the side of her head. She had to keep moving. Keep moving…
It was impossible. Only a few seconds later her feet went out from under her again and this time there was no way to control her fall. She went tumbling down the slope, headfirst. Her legs banged up against the rocks and brush and thorns. Her head hit something new, something just as hard, and once again she thought she would lose consciousness. She managed to keep herself awake, but she had lost all control of her descent.
She heard a sudden snap, jolting her awake. What was that? she thought, and a moment later, she realized it was her-her leg, to be specific. She had banged it against something and it had snapped. Had she broken it? She couldn’t be sure. She only knew it hurt like hell and she couldn’t stop falling…
Until she did. She hit the bottom of the slope with a sharp and painful immediacy. But the descent was over. And just across the muddy bank, not ten feet away, was her boat. And another one she didn’t recognize…
If only she could get to it. She tried to push herself to her feet, but her injured leg hurt so badly she couldn’t steady herself. Her head was swimming, barely able to focus. She fell to the ground again, the cold earth knocking her breath away.
All right then, if she couldn’t walk, she’d crawl. It wasn’t far. She pushed up onto her hands and knees. The leg still ached, but crawling like an infant, she narrowed the distance between herself and the boat. Closer, closer, closer…
“That’s about far enough, I think.”
Sheila felt a foot pressed against her back, shoving her face into the mud.
Too late.
“A little dark for a boating excursion, don’t you think?” the voice behind her said. “A girl could get hurt.”
The white chocolate mocha was gone, but Mike and Baxter were still keeping watch. They hadn’t seen anyone else come near the cabin, but they could see that the lights were still on.
“If that woman came all the way out here and she’s still up at this hour of the night,” Mike ventured, “there must be a reason.”
“Like she’s going to meet someone?”
“Maybe. Or she’s going to do something she doesn’t want anyone to see her doing.”
“You really think Sheila Knight is the key to this thing?”
Mike waved his hand in the air. “I don’t think there is a key. I think Erin killed herself. But Sheila was definitely holding something back. I wonder if I could get Bernie to tap her phone?”
“Look, Morelli, I won’t let you do anything improper or illegal.”
“You don’t have to be any part of it.”
“Yeah, but if my partner commits an offense, it could reflect back on me.”
“Chill, Baxter.”
“Don’t tell me to chill. I won’t let you screw up my career.”
“Baxter, relax.”
“Don’t patronize me. This is serious!”
“Baxter! Shoosh!” Once she finally quieted, he lowered his voice. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t do it without a court order. Relax already.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Sorry. I overreacted.”
“No joke.”
“It’s just… something I’m sensitive about.”
Mike slowly turned to look at her. “You had some trouble in Oklahoma City, didn’t you?”
“You know I did.”
“I know there’s more to it than what I read in your report.”
“Which was?”
“Basically, Kate doesn’t play well with the other children.” He shrugged. “So what? We’re cops, not insurance salesmen. There has to be more.”
Baxter did not reply.
“The way they hustled you out of OKC and set you up here with Blackwell and the mayor-someone was pulling some major-league strings. Someone who wanted you out of the OKC PD in a big way.”
Baxter stared at the floor of the car. She wasn’t taking the bait.
Mike continued. “Whatever it was, it probably didn’t even directly relate to police work. Otherwise, it would’ve been in your file.”
“Maybe there’s nothing to put in the file.”
“There is,” Mike said firmly. “Something they didn’t want to write down. Something you’re not telling me about it.”
“And how do you know? Is my face making the wrong kind of crinkly lines? Is it because you’re such a damn good cop?”
“No. It’s because you’re such a damn good cop.”
Baxter’s eyes rose.
“Too good to be cut loose so unceremoniously without a compelling reason.”
Baxter’s eyes were black, like deep inky wells, neither capturing nor reflecting light. “There was a reason.”
“I’m listening.”
“And you’re right. It had nothing to do with police work. I was…” She paused, breathing in and out deeply, several times. “I was involved with someone.”
“Another cop.”
She nodded.
“Your partner?”
“Worse. The chief.”
Mike’s eyes widened. “As in, chief of police? Hardesty? The old man?”
She pressed her hand against her forehead. “I can’t explain it. It just… happened.”