“Today was good,” Maggie said.
“I’m not sure we’re any closer to finding Chelsey,” Stride pointed out.
“I mean good as in having you back.”
“I’m not back,” he clarified.
“Well, even if it’s just a trial balloon, I’ll take it. You, me — I miss that.”
He didn’t answer. She was right about him and about the day. Part of him was hungry to be back. Part of him wanted to sit behind that desk again and call the shots and feel the surge of adrenaline in his veins. Another part of him wanted to leave it all behind.
“I don’t know what to think about Gavin Webster,” Maggie admitted.
She poured another shot for herself, but Stride waved his hand over his glass.
“I don’t either,” Stride said.
“When I hear about gambling debts and inheritance windfalls and secret poker games, I think he has to be guilty. He wanted to get rid of his wife, so he got somebody to abduct and kill her, and he used the ransom money to pay the person off.”
“Could be.”
Maggie shoved a stack of papers across her desk. “We got a copy of Gavin’s cell phone records.”
“And?”
She pointed at an incoming call highlighted in yellow. “See that call? It was made the day that Guppo says the surveillance camera was placed in Gavin’s house. The number is the same burner phone that was used to demand the ransom on Tuesday night.”
“So the kidnapper contacted Gavin before Chelsey was abducted?”
“Yep.”
Stride shook his head. “If Gavin’s guilty, that’s a pretty careless mistake.”
“I agree. And yet most criminals — even smart criminals — make mistakes. Good thing, or our job would be a lot tougher.”
“We need to talk to Gavin about it.”
Maggie tipped her glass toward him. “You want to take the interrogation?”
“This isn’t my case,” Stride said. “It’s yours.”
“Yeah, but you’re better at this than me. I tend to scare people, and they shut up.”
Stride looked at her. “I’m not back, Mags.”
“Well, you’re here now, and hopefully, you’ll be here tomorrow. Talk to Gavin in the morning. See what he says.”
He shrugged. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“Thank you.”
She drained her shot of Teeling, and then she held up the bottle. Stride didn’t bother turning down the whiskey this time. She filled both crystal glasses, and they clinked them together in a toast.
“To old times,” she said.
“Old times.”
Maggie drank the shot, put the glass down on the desk, and then said, “So. What are we going to do about Serena?”
12
Cat climbed the dunes behind the cottage. When she got to the top of the weedy slope, she could see Lake Superior spread out in front of her. The beach ran along the peninsula toward the Duluth skyline that was framed against the hillside, and waves thundered against the sand. She saw Serena near the edge of the surf, with the high wind making a mess of her long hair. Not far away, a dog ran back and forth through the water, returning to Serena like the fixed point of a compass.
Being here felt like home. She’d spent a lot of time at the lake with Serena, talking about life, men, sex, parents, and guilt. It was a kind of mother-daughter closeness that neither one of them had seen coming. Cat’s own mother had been killed by her father when she was six years old, and after that, she’d bounced between foster homes and life on the streets. When she’d moved into the cottage, her relationship with Serena had built in a slow, difficult way. With Stride, it had been easy. Stride was Stride. Cat loved him. But she and Serena had struggled. They’d started out jealous of each other, Cat for the fact that Stride loved Serena, Serena for the fact that Stride sometimes opened up to Cat more than to her. Cat was also naturally rebellious, not just like a normal teenager, but as a girl who’d lived through trauma and spent years making her own rules. Stride took some of that defiance, but Serena got the brunt of it.
However, as time passed, Serena began letting Cat make her own mistakes. In return, Cat found herself leaning on Serena more and more. She began to realize that she and Serena had a lot in common in their pasts, and she started to ask Serena for advice, even if she didn’t always take it. And although Serena had never pretended to be a surrogate mother to her, Cat began to look at her that way. She liked it now when Serena referred to her as her daughter.
She took the wooden steps to the thin strip of beach. It was a cold, crisp night, radiant with moon and stars. The dog galloped her way, as if recognizing a friend without being introduced. He rolled over on the sand, and Cat squatted and gave him plenty of attention. When she was finished, the dog jumped up and shook a cloud of sand off his fur, which made Cat laugh and cough. She came up beside Serena, where the waves slipped in almost to her feet.
For a long time, she felt no need to say anything. They both stood next to each other, arms crossed on their chests, the water dark and blue in front of them. Far out on the horizon were the stationary lights of an ore boat, awaiting a berth in the harbor.
Finally, Cat said, “So what’s the deal? Did you replace me with a dog?”
“That’s a long story,” Serena said.
“Is he a permanent addition?”
Serena sighed, and Cat heard sadness in her voice. “No. Just a visitor.”
“Well, he’s sweet.”
“Yes, he is.”
They both fell silent again. The waves kept coming and going.
“Curt says you threatened to kill him,” Cat said a couple of minutes later, with her usual girlish giggle.
Serena gave a little shrug. “I probably wouldn’t do it.”
“Probably?”
“It’s better that he’s not completely sure,” Serena said.
“You do know that you don’t need to worry about me and Curt, right? That’s ancient history.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Serena turned toward her in the moonlight. Cat saw a glassy shine in her eyes, but no actual tears. As she stood there, Serena reached out with one hand and stroked Cat’s chestnut hair. She looked her up and down with a kind of wonder.
“You’ve only been away a month, and you already look different,” Serena said.
“Different how?”
“Older. Wiser. In control of your life.”
“Thank you.”
“Sorry for not texting more,” Serena said. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”
“I knew where you were,” Cat replied. She closed the gap between them and folded Serena up in a hug. Serena was much taller and stronger, but Cat held her tight. When she let go, she tilted up her head and whispered, “Stride told me about Samantha.”
“I figured.”
“You okay?”
“No. Not really.”
“Wanna talk?”
“Yeah.”
Serena walked down the wet beach into the water, as if she needed the jolt of the chill to open up. The waves rushed in, soaking her shoes and ankles. The dog ran through the surf and barked at them happily. Cat joined her and put an arm around Serena’s waist and leaned her head against her shoulder.
“So what are you thinking about?” she asked.
“The bad old days in Phoenix,” Serena murmured, her voice barely louder than the lake.
“Sure.”
“I kick myself for letting it happen. I should have gotten out right away. I should have run as soon as I met Blue Dog. But I didn’t.”
“Yeah, but you were what, sixteen?”
“It didn’t matter how old I was. I knew what was going to happen. I knew what he was going to do to me, but I couldn’t leave Samantha. Back then, I couldn’t imagine life without her. It was my job to take care of her.”