Dead Don't Lie

Ava scrambled down from her chair and threw herself at Evelyn. “Don’t go, Ev. You haven’t seen my new book yet.”

“I see how I rate.” Ryan chuckled, then shrugged on his North Face jacket.

Evelyn hugged Ava tightly. “Next time, sweets. That’s a promise. Okay?”

After letting her go, Evelyn leaned down to hug Liam, who was reaching up from his high chair. She laughed as he dug his chubby face into her neck and gave her a slobbery, openmouthed, potato-covered baby kiss.

God, she loved this family, these kids. No one could replace her own family. Ever. She ached for them daily, the pain still as fresh as it was fifteen years ago. But the O’Neil clan came a close second.

The gaping wound in her soul healed a bit with every minute spent with them. She didn’t know if she’d ever be whole again—some days, she doubted it completely. But this family made her feel like she had a fighting chance, and she’d do anything for them.

Ryan stood by the door. “Let’s go, Evelyn. The captain will piss himself if we don’t get there soon.”

“Ryan.” A groan of exasperation escaped Kate’s lips.

He shrugged, a sheepish smile crossing his face. It morphed into a smirk as he took a giant step forward and wrapped Kate in a tight embrace, noisily kissing her. Ava squealed in protest. Twisting out of her husband’s arms, Kate blushed and rolled her eyes at Evelyn.

“But he will. Truly. Piss himself,” Ryan said straight-faced. He laughed as he dodged Kate’s playful swat.

No need to remind Evelyn of that. Captain Kessler’s temper was legendary. Hot lava bubbled just beneath the surface of his even, cool disposition, just waiting for the right moment to erupt. It didn’t do so often, but when his temper flared, it was hot and violent.

She tried her best to stay on the easygoing side of his demeanor, but something told her that tonight they just might see him explode. Nothing in the message she’d received alluded to that, yet her instincts screamed that something was amiss. Something big. And ugly.

Evelyn blew out a long breath. So much for time off. She kissed Kate on the cheek. “Thanks for the dinner. Who knows, maybe one of these days you can teach me how to cook.”

Kate smiled. “That’d be nice.”

“You? Cook?” Ryan snorted, pushed open the front door and stepped out. “Not possible.”

Smiling, Evelyn shrugged into her black lightweight North Face jacket, then followed Ryan into the foggy Seattle evening.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e4f084fb-15f9-5b4a-888d-3ce5d20dfb71)

IT HAD BEEN fifteen years. Still...she didn’t think she’d ever stop missing the constant sun and warmth of Phoenix. Shivering in the wind, she zipped her jacket, hunched her shoulders against the bone-chilling drizzle that fell from the sky and headed toward the station’s metal double doors. Admittedly, this misty Pacific Northwest weather suited her—the Evelyn of today. The Evelyn who’d once soaked up the golden sun in Phoenix and traipsed through Milan without a worry in the world had gone into hiding a long time ago. Her chest tightened. She wasn’t sure she’d ever see her again, or if she even existed anymore.

The station’s small foyer sat vacant except for the young officer perched behind the front desk. He lifted his head. “Detectives.”

“Sampson.” Evelyn nodded. “What’s going on tonight?”

His brows pinched together. “Sorry, Detective. Haven’t heard a thing.”

She frowned. “Okay. Thanks.”

A sick sense of dread twisted her stomach. She and Ryan rode to the third floor in silence. This was their night off. Being called in, especially after working the Langdon case nonstop, only meant one thing: trouble.

A soft chime announced their arrival. Captain Kessler sat on the desk closest to them—Evelyn’s desk—his face stormy.

“It’s about time,” he said. He pushed his tall, lanky frame off the corner of her desk and glared at them. Has he been waiting for us? Evelyn cast a quizzical look toward Ryan. He shrugged.

“Come on.” Kessler marched down the hall to his office door.

They passed through the bull pen to follow him. It was small, cramped almost. A dozen or so ancient metal desks butted up against one another. Each pair of detectives faced their partner. Ryan’s desk proudly featured his family’s framed smiling faces. Evelyn’s was mostly empty. No personal knickknacks, save the oversize black coffee mug she’d picked up at the market and one photo of Evelyn with Kate and the kids.

Normally bustling with loud—sometimes bordering on obnoxious—activity, the open space was vacant, quiet. She glanced at the assignment board. The detectives were all out. All of them.

Evelyn started to shake off her jacket.

“Don’t even bother, Davis,” Kessler called to her.

She shrugged back into the empty sleeve. Her brows lifted in surprise at the captain’s agitated jitteriness. With a lift of his broad shoulders, Ryan turned and headed toward Kessler’s office. Evelyn followed.

“I’m sending you over to Mercer Island.”

Evelyn and Ryan exchanged guarded looks. Not good. Not good at all.

“That’s Sanderson’s precinct.” Ryan leaned against the door frame, weary of the coming storm.

Despite her best attempts, anytime Evelyn and Sanderson were in the same vicinity, sparks flew—and not the good kind. Sanderson had made his disdain for her obvious on several occasions. Ever since he’d screwed up the close on the one—and only—case they’d been forced to work on together, his dislike had boiled over to sheer black hatred. Evelyn groaned inwardly.

She’d put up with a lot of bullshit being a woman on the force. But his chauvinistic, Neanderthal behavior was the worst. He was cocky, quick to leap to broad conclusions and straight-up sexist. There wasn’t a woman in the entire SPD who could stand to work with him. And to think she’d just been about to spend a relaxing evening with Kate and the kids.

“Yes.” Kessler gave Ryan a hard look. “Is that a problem, O’Neil?”

Ryan raised his hands. “Nope. Not for us, sir.”

“The chief...”

“Excuse me, sir.” Evelyn threw a shielded glance at Ryan. “The chief?”

Chief Diaz had been responsible for bringing her to the Seattle Police Department. He, Captain Kessler and Ryan were the only officers privy to her complete, sealed file. Though she knew the chief had watched over her—and her career—like a concerned older brother, once her move had been completed, she’d set out to prove herself, by herself. And prove herself she did. Her promotions, as the youngest woman to make detective, had been of her own merit. Still, she wasn’t deaf to the murmurs that the chief favored her.

Having him involved tonight spelled disaster. She took a deep breath and shifted her weight. Kessler’s blue eyes were dark with concern.

She didn’t need any more trouble from Sanderson. Her working relationship with him had gone from bad to worse when she had made detective before him. He’d protested just loud enough and made a not-so-subtle hint about her connection with the chief. It was a load of shit. But still...try as she might to ignore his egotistical arrogance and remain calm and professional, he always found a way under her skin.

Since her promotion, she and Ryan had been kept away from Sanderson. But apparently their luck had just run out. Great.

Kessler glared at her from hooded eyes and motioned for her to sit, which she did. He ran his forefinger over the top of his thumb, picked at his cuticle. Evelyn frowned. She’d picked up that tell during the first month reporting to him. What was making him so anxious?

“Given your background and your closing rate, the chief believes you’ll be an asset to the case.”

She leaned back into the uncomfortable chair, its faux leather groaning.

“And the case is?” She crossed her arms, cautiously intrigued.

Kessler hesitated. His face was ashen, the calm in his eyes dissipating.

“Captain?” Ryan broke the silence in the fishbowl room.