"Did you look for hit-and-run?" James asked.
"I looked for everything."
"I wasn't insulting you, Sergeant," James said. "I need to lay this to rest for the son."
"The kid came to see me, five maybe six times. What am I supposed to tell him? He says how his father knows that road, every inch of it. That he's a careful man. Well, I know that road, too, and I've almost lost it on that curve myself a few times. There is no evidence to indicate foul play. It could've been a hit-and-run, intentional or otherwise, but I don't think so. I found absolutely nothing to indicate otherwise."
"Does anything indicate he applied the brakes?" James asked.
Bodine raised his brows. "Are you saying this could be self-inflicted? Intentional on Brenley's part?"
"I'm asking, not saying."
The sergeant scratched his cheek, then he flipped through the photos until he came to the one he wanted. "No skid marks, but the road was wet," he reminded them. "And personally if I was gonna take my last ride, it wouldn't be here. It'd be a mile up the road. If Brenley knew the road as good as the kid said he did, he'd know that, too."
James nodded.
"Do you think the boy will rest now?" Bodine asked. "I've got a kid about that age. I kept wanting to hug him. He was struggling for answers."
"I'll do my best to convince him," James said, standing and extending his hand. "Thanks a lot."
"What next?" Sam asked when they left the building.
He thought about Caryn, who was going about her life, being patient, he hoped. And he thought about Kevin, probably still ticked off-as if he needed more fuel to dislike James. And he thought about Venus, whom he'd decided was as much a victim as Caryn and Kevin.
What next?
He didn't have a doubt in his mind.
James got the last flight back to San Francisco that night, the longest Sunday of his life. He should just go home, fall into bed, and sleep until he'd had enough, even if he didn't get up until noon. He couldn't see Caryn and Kevin until after three o'clock, anyway.
He glanced at his dashboard clock as he pulled onto Highway 101, leaving the airport. Almost midnight. He wanted to see Caryn, talk to her, tell her what they decided to do. He could've told her over the phone, but he needed to tell her in person, because he needed to be with her.
His cell phone rang, and he knew it was her without even looking at the screen. "Mysterious."
A pause, then, "How'd you guess it was me?"
"Just lucky." Her voice flowed through him like liquid fire. Even though he'd been sure nothing would happen while he was gone, a part of him worried anyway, as a man does about a woman he … loves. His heart slammed against his sternum. "How are you?"
"Fine. Not sleepy, though. Could you come over?"
"Kevin-"
"Went to sleep a couple of hours ago. He sleeps like the dead. I just … I just want to talk. I can't wait until tomorrow."
And he wanted to hold her, kiss her, sleep beside her. That's all. Just sleep. He didn't have that right. Would never have that right.
"Please," she added.
He should take his moments while he could, he supposed. What difference would it make in the long run? "Okay. I'm about twenty minutes out."
"I'll be watching for you. You won't have to knock."
"See you soon," he said, knowing he was just opening himself up to heartache, but also knowing he couldn't live his life any other way. His son and his son's mother would come first. Now and always.
"What can I get you?" Caryn asked after James eased out a kitchen chair and sat at the table. "Have you had dinner?"
"Hamburger at the airport. What I'd really like is hot chocolate."
"Comfort food?" she asked, studying him. He hadn't attempted to hug her since he'd arrived. She was so tired of waiting to hear what happened. He'd put her off twice during the day, with flimsy excuses. No more excuses now.
"It's been a long day," he said.
She grabbed milk and a pan, then the box of powdered cocoa. No microwaved stuff, no watered-down cocoa, but the old-fashioned kind. Besides it gave her something to do-stir the milk so it wouldn't scorch, keep herself busy. She kept her back to him, waiting for him to set the pace and give her the facts, but her pulse thundered with expectation. Tell me, tell me, tell me.
"It was an accident, Caryn."
She dropped the spoon to the floor, pressed her hands to her mouth. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
She hadn't heard him move, but he was there, behind her. She turned and fell into him. His arms came around her and tightened, in comfort and sympathy and celebration of an agony shattered. She could pick up the pieces and put them back together in a new arrangement, a happier one. She had James to thank for that.
He tucked her face against his neck. She hadn't known how much it had weighed on her until the weight was lifted. Everything let loose at once-the anger and shame, gone. Grief transitioned into a gentler emotion with good memories attached instead of the horrible ones. She could remember Paul with love now.
After a while she stepped back and grabbed a tissue. James picked up the spoon from the floor, got another one out of a drawer and stirred. She leaned over and sniffed the concoction. It didn't seem to have scorched. "Where do we go from here?" She gave her cheeks one more swipe with the tissue and tucked it in her pocket.
"You want to hear my plan?"
The twinkle in his eye alerted her that she was about to be fed a line.
"I figure we need to close this out now, before anything else happens. How about a plan to have Venus tell her brother that she's turning state's evidence." His look was mock serious. "He'll come rushing up from L.A., intending to take her home, get her out of sight. But I'll be hiding out at her place, instead, and grab him. Then I'll hold him hostage for the five hundred grand-that's counting interest-he owes you. When he's turned over the money, he'll be free to go."
She grinned at the ridiculousness of his idea, grateful he'd chosen to change the mood so drastically. He always seemed attuned to her needs.
"You won't give him the option of turning himself in?"
"To the police?"
"No, to the tooth fairy."
He managed not to smile. "Somehow I don't see him turning himself in. Better to take him down and do it myself."
"You're not calling in the cops?"
"They'd just mess things up. They always do on TV."
"Can I help?"
"I don't see why not." He turned the heat off from under the pan. "Got a couple of mugs?"
She pulled two from the cupboard and set them down.
"What was that?" James asked suddenly, turning toward the kitchen door.
"What?"
"That sound."
"Um, I just put the mugs on the counter."
"No." He abandoned the pan and walked into the living room, then over to the stairs.
She followed. "I didn't hear anything." After a minute they returned to the kitchen and sat at the table, opposite each other. The cocoa was warm and sweet. Her cares were lifted. Life was good, she thought. "So, what's the real plan?" she asked.
"You didn't like that one?" he asked, with the same twinkle.
"Well, I hope you're going to let the legal system do their job." If James was contemplating even for a moment the idea of going after Johnson, she'd find a way to kidnap him herself, just to keep James safe.
"Why do you hope that?"
"Because I believe in the system."
"Even though you didn't contact the police yourself about the extortion?"
"Because I didn't. I learned. We've got enough evidence, right?"
"Maybe. Depends on his lawyers. I have to be honest, you may not see the money. Even if he's convicted, he probably won't pay up. It's hard to say."
"I have everything I need, Jamey."
He cocked his head at her. "That's a change from this morning, when you said you wanted your money back."
"I've had time to think, and to get my priorities back in alignment. Sure it would be wonderful to have the money, but it's not what counts the most."
"What does count?"
"Home, family, good food, friends, world peace." She smiled.
"You are one of a kind." He leaned across the table and kissed her, her mouth warm and chocolatey.
"I need to go to bed," he said. "I'll call Kevin before he heads to school and set up a time to meet with both of you around three-thirty. Unless you want me to talk to him alone."