Jesse’s stomach was in her throat. The police station was cold inside. She hated this place. Recently, it felt as though she had been here a lot with her family as they struggled to make sense of the things going on in their lives right now.

Daphne and Met had joined them. It seemed as though things were becoming a total family affair. All that was left was to get Laredo and Darren involved. Then the ten of them could all run around town trying to solve decades-old crimes by uncovering ridiculous schemes to avoid responsibility.

“I was really sorry to hear about your father,” Officer Keene told Met Hernandez. He held out his hand, and Met took it in a firm handshake.

Officer Keene was a handsome officer in his mid to late twenties. He seemed to have his head on straight. More importantly, the Hernandez clan had noticed that he did not seem inclined to follow the rest of the department’s blind belief in Captain Paul Weatherby as an upstanding cop and citizen. They were now ensconced with Officer Keene in one of the interview rooms adjacent to the main reception area of the coolly formal police station.

Cal moved forward and offered his hand to Officer Keene as well. “We really appreciate you agreeing to meet with us on such short notice.”

“It’s the least I could do, all things considered,” Keene said graciously. “So, Daphne wasn’t able to tell me much on the phone. What is it you need?”

Cisco pulled up the old police report on his phone. “Do you have access to a computer?”

“I have my department laptop.” Keene gestured to the metal table where he had set his bag. “What was your question?”

“It’s about a police report filed by then Sergeant Weatherby,” Cisco said quickly. “He filed a report on the accident that killed both of Jesse’s parents nearly six weeks after the accident itself. He states he was the only officer on scene. We find that difficult to believe.”

Keene raised his eyebrows. Then he drew them together as he began to think out loud. “So, about that time was when this department started going digital, but we didn’t start scanning in stuff like crime scene photographs and that sort of thing until about five years ago. I would think that this would have been scanned in. So, let’s see what’s in the actual file.”

Keene sat down and opened his laptop. He began to pound away on the little keyboard as he pulled up file folders and searched through the department database. Each time he pulled something up, Jesse felt as though she were on a roller coaster climbing the next hill and waiting for the drop at the end. Her guts were twisted into knots, and she was in danger of losing what little food she’d eaten in the last day or so.

Cal seemed to guess that she was near her breaking point. He moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her body. It was really odd to be doing this in front of the rest of his family. Even though it was only Met and Cisco in the room and not someone like Avery or even poor Joe, Jesse was acutely aware of the fact that the relationship between her and Cal had always been taboo within the family.

Then Cal gently kissed the top of her head. She rested her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes. Maybe none of that mattered. The only thing she could think of was that she needed comfort and Cal had it to give. Nothing felt quite as good as standing beside him and letting all of that warmth soak into her body. Somehow, she did not feel so cold and sad when she was in Cal’s arms.

“Here we go,” Keene muttered to himself. “There are crime scene photos that were taken at the accident and then later uploaded into the system. I’m pretty sure these are all accurate.”

Jesse opened her eyes. She didn’t want to. There was a lump in her belly that had everything to do with the fact that she was about to look at a photograph of the accident that had killed both of her parents.

“So, here’s the first car.” Keene’s tone was calm and very businesslike. “And here is the second vehicle. It looks like the Collins family was driving a small SUV.”

“My mother’s,” Jesse said suddenly. A flash of memory left her almost unable to breathe. “It was maroon.”

“Right here.” Keene gestured to the first photograph. Then he pointed to a second one. “And you can see that it was clipped right here on the fender by this truck.”

Cisco made a low noise. The rest of the room was dead quiet. Keene was looking around at them as though he didn’t quite understand what was going on. Cisco cleared his throat. “The official report states that there was only one vehicle involved.”

“Hell.” Keene cursed and clicked the computer mouse. “You’re right. How is that possible? I’m looking at two vehicles. The tech even took photographs of paint transfer.”

“Can you see an identifying mark on that truck?” Cal’s voice was strained.

Jesse could feel that strain mirrored within her own body. She almost could not catch a full breath. It felt like she needed to stick her head inside a paper bag or something.

Keene was tapping and pounding on his keyboard and tapping some more. Daphne and Melody were now standing so close to each other that they were nearly holding hands. It was funny how this kind of thing brought people closer together. They were all in this now. Daphne had been the Hernandez Land & Cattle Company’s public relations contact for years. Now she was up to her elbows in the mess that was the Hernandez family’s everyday life.

“That’s not the original report,” Keene finally said. His voice was so quiet that it was almost as if he were afraid to say it out loud. “I don’t think this one was supposed to be uploaded. It’s labeled as a photograph, but it’s the original report.” Keene paused. On the screen, Jesse could see him enlarging the form. “The signature is from an officer who retired and then passed away nearly five years ago now.”

“Everyone who knows the truth is dead,” Jesse whispered. “I sometimes wonder if that’s by accident or design.”

“Better not to speculate,” Cal murmured back. Then Cal cleared his throat. “Is Weatherby listed as an officer who was there because he was working the accident?”

Keene’s expression was tight. He looked dangerously close to losing it. “He was a participant.”

“Excuse me?” Cisco snapped. “Are you telling me that Paul Weatherby was the driver of the second vehicle but managed not to take any blame or any responsibility and then made himself the reporting officer with a click of a stupid button?”

Keene was shaking his head. He sat back in his chair and stared at the screen. “It sort of seems like that.”

“How does that happen?” Jesse wondered out loud. “You guys didn’t even have jurisdiction. It’s a county matter. The sheriff’s office should have been called.”

“Sometimes we do a jurisdictional reciprocity agreement in certain cases.” Keene was starting to look ill. He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “In this case, I have a horrible feeling that Weatherby called in a few favors. He was already living in that county. He was the owner of the Flying W. He had some pull with the sheriff’s department. That means something in those parts, especially back then.”

“So, what do we do?” Jesse wanted to know. She put her hands in her hair and tugged at the roots of her hair until Cal carefully untangled her fingers and pulled them free. “It’s all over. It’s done! My parents are dead, and there’s absolutely no way to know if he was the cause of that or not. We don’t know what was happening that night. The Farrells are gone. Weatherby isn’t going to say anything to incriminate himself. And my parents are dead.” She kept saying that phrase over and over inside her head. For some reason, it was all she could do to keep herself sane.

“I’m sorry, Jesse.” Keene shook his head. “There’s really nothing that we can do from a crime prosecution standpoint. Not that the statute of limitations ever expires on murder, but I can tell you from looking at these photographs that they would have had a hard time claiming vehicular homicide.”

“Meaning what?” Cal demanded.

Keene gestured to the photographs, pulling them up first on his screen. Next he stood and pulled a cord from the wall to attach to his laptop. He flipped off the light, and suddenly the photos of Jesse’s parents’ accident were up on the pristine white cinder block wall for them all to peruse.

“See this here?” Keene was gesturing to the landscape surrounding the maroon SUV that Jesse could remember sitting in their garage from the time she was a tiny girl. “It’s obviously hit something that was submerged in the snow.”

“Okay.” Cal pointed to the tracks on the screen. “So, what it looks like is that they had to swerve in order to miss another vehicle.”

“That might be true,” Keene agreed, then shook his head. “No. I’m going to say that you are exactly right. The Collinses had to swerve practically off the road to avoid Paul Weatherby in his big truck. In that process, they hit a stump. The SUV was decimated by that stump and by the spin that left it upside down in the ditch. But Paul did not drive off and leave them there. He stayed. He helped out. He called emergency services with his CB radio, according to the report. That’s not the actions of a man who intentionally committed murder.”

“Do you think there was alcohol involved?” Daphne asked in a small voice from the back of the room. “It seems kind of likely, don’t you think?”

Jesse could not imagine her father imbibing while at the Farrells’s. “The Farrells’s house was in a dry county.” Jesse glanced at Melody. “Your grandparents didn’t drink and didn’t approve of it.”

“Why were your parents over there?” Keene asked Jesse.

Jesse had to go with her gut. She had been tossing this idea around in her head ever since she’d found out that her parents were not only related to the Farrells but had been having marital issues. “My mom and dad went over there once a week and left me home. I think they were doing some kind of couples mentoring.”

Keene immediately understood. His expression said as much. “So, they were having some marital troubles?”

“I think a bit,” Jesse admitted. She felt like everyone else was staring at her. Finally, Cal took her fingers into his and gave them a little squeeze. “So, I cannot imagine why my father would drink while he was there.”

“Sounds fair,” Keene said kindly. Then he locked his hands behind him and stood at parade rest. “Without some kind of evidence, blood or breathalyzer or otherwise, there’s no way of knowing whether or not Paul Weatherby was drinking that night. Even if we tried to make a case for that in court, they wouldn’t buy it. No jury could believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did it.”

Jesse felt her heart sink into her boots. She didn’t know what she’d been hoping for by learning this information. Was she hoping to prove that Weatherby was a liar? That didn’t take a whole stretch of the imagination. In fact, pretty much anyone who knew the man knew that he was a liar. He often used exaggeration in the same way other people spoke regular words. But at the end of the day, it just made him a shitty person.

Then Cisco started to chuckle. He was muttering to himself and rocking back and forth on his boot heels like he was having a fit of some kind. Cal was the one to reach over and smack him. Keene just stared as though he were waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry,” Cisco said finally. “I was just considering the fact that we’re so worried about Paul Weatherby bringing a suit against us for compensation on the behalf of an unknown party for part ownership or compensation of monies lost on the ranches. Right?”

Keene was nodding. The rest of them were clueless. Yes. That was the problem. Jesse just didn’t see how this was going to help.

“A civil suit,” Cisco reiterated. Then he smiled. It was almost frightening. “But right here we have enough circumstantial evidence—not to mention intentional hiding of that evidence with intent to deceive insurance companies, law enforcement officials, and family members—that we could bring a civil suit for murder against Paul Weatherby.”

“That’s true,” Keene agreed. He pointed at Cisco. “That’s actually a very good point. You only need a preponderance of the evidence in a civil suit. I think you could convince a jury that Weatherby is fifty-one percent guilty of this crime.”

“And that’s all it takes!” Cisco said eagerly.

Jesse started to feel hope again. She turned to Cal and smiled up at him. Then she looked at Cisco. “So, what do we do?”

“That’s definitely a good question,” Cisco murmured. He put his arm around Melody as though that was going to help him think. “I’m almost convinced that I should start the proceedings. I’ll file a motion to have all of this investigated by Internal Affairs. Since Weatherby is a cop, he’s already under investigation thanks to Cal’s suggestion to the deputies from the county sheriff’s office.” Cisco nodded to Keene. “With your permission, I would like to give this to the Internal Affairs people as well. They can add this to their file, and then it becomes part of the official record.”

Keene gave an emphatic nod. “Absolutely. I think that’s the best way to proceed from your perspective. Weatherby is going to know that he’s been had. He’d have to be a fool to pursue anything against your family. He would have to know that he was opening himself up to retribution.”

“Thank you!” Jesse told Keene. Then she added Daphne to that. “And thank you for finding someone who isn’t a Weatherby puppet.”

Keene held up his hand. “Daphne had her share of crazy, and I watched her handle that with grace under pressure that would have caused most people to collapse under the strain. When she told me what was going on with Weatherby, I knew I could believe her. You guys have to give us poor cops some credit. We don’t all blindly follow the party line.”

“We know that.” Cal shook Keene’s hand before putting his arm around Jesse and giving her a squeeze. “Sometimes we just forget that we don’t always have to take the law into our own hands.”

Thank goodness for that! Perhaps Cal would stop wanting to create teenaged havoc all over the Flying W just to make himself feel better about what a horrible person Paul Weatherby really was.