I’d been back in my office from the morning pep rally for all of thirty seconds before I was interrupted. The woman storming through my office door under a full head of steam was not the ninth grader that started yesterday’s food fight. Cassidy leaned over my desk and tossed the envelope at me. “You are lucky I don’t shoot you on the spot,” she snapped.

“I’ll close this for y’all,” Maribel announced shrilly, her eyes wide behind her glasses. Good luck, she mouthed to me.

“Cassidy it was just a joke,” I told her.

“My job is not a joke. Do you even realize how close I am to being asked to resign?”

“Your father would never—”

“Jesus, Bowie. I’m not talking about my dad. I’m talking about Connelly. The man who banned me from any involvement in the Kendall investigation and spelled it out real clear that I’m to steer clear of you and your family, too. I’m already stuck on desk duty scanning a hundred million old case files. Pictures like that get out and he’ll boot my ass quicker than two shakes of a sheep’s tail!”

I sat up straighter. “Why are you supposed to steer clear of me?”

“Because your father is Connelly’s primary suspect. Because I’m supposed to be an objective investigator. And because he’s basically a dick.”

She was breathing heavy, eyes flashing. It took a lot to rile Cassidy and my little joke—a dozen pictures from my phone and Jonah’s from last night—had been the straw that broke her.

“Okay,” I said pushing out from behind my desk. “Let’s sit and talk this through.”

“Don’t you use that principal voice on me, Bowie Bodine!”

“Sorry. Force of habit. Sit down. Please. Coffee or water?”

She rubbed her forehead and then flopped down in the chair in front of my desk. “Both.”

I dug in my drawer and pulled out a bottle of aspirin and a roll of antacids. I programmed the coffeemaker and handed over my water bottle. I wanted to sit next to her, but she was carrying her service weapon and a taser, so I figured the edge of my desk was safer.

We sat in silence while the coffee sputtered into a mug.

“Connelly realizes that this isn’t some big city, doesn’t he?” I finally asked, setting the mug in front of her. “Can he honestly expect you to maintain some kind of distance from me? From us? We share a wall, for christ’s sake.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, Bow. But the man has it out for me ever since those reporters started squatting in your driveway. He thinks I can’t be impartial and after I talked to Mrs. Kendall and asked her a few questions yesterday, he lost his shit. Now all I’m allowed to do is scan files and pull over Rhett Ginsler when he’s gassed up.”

“Why didn’t you say something, Cass?”

“Why are you acting like we’re in a relationship?” she shot back at me.

“Honey, whether you want to admit it or not, we are. Now, whether that relationship is a friendship or something a hell of a lot more is up to you. You know where I stand. But either way, you can’t keep trying to do everything yourself. You can’t keep shutting me out, Cass.”

She ignored me and picked up the water. She downed the aspirin and chugged a gulp of water.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, leaning back in the chair and closing her eyes.

“Let me help you,” I told her.

“Bowie, you hurt me,” she said, opening her eyes and staring at me. “Really hurt me. Yes, I was only nineteen and yes, you were probably a dumbass, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. I thought we were meant to be and you telling me that you had no feelings for me devastated me.”

“I’m so sorry, Cass. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“Now, all these years later, I come to find out that you did have feelings for me but you walked away because my father asked you to. Then he gives his blessing and you’re off to the races. It seems to me that your relationship with my father was more important to you than your feelings for me.”

I rubbed my palms on my thighs. “It’s complicated,” I told her.

“Try me. Explain it to me. Tell me how I’m supposed to trust that you aren’t going to crush me again because you get scared or you want to do the right thing. You taught me something all those years ago, Bowie. You taught me that I need to take care of myself because I can’t count on someone else to do it.”

“Your dad was more of a father to me than mine ever was,” I said, plucking the picture off of my file cabinet and handing it over. “That picture is in here because of your dad, not mine. I looked up to him. He was the kind of man I wanted to be. But I didn’t know if I could because of who my father was.”

She studied the picture carefully, running a finger around the edge of the frame.

“So when your dad asked me to back off, when it sounded to me like he was saying I wasn’t good enough for you, for your family…” I scratched the back of my head trying to find the words. “I was devastated, Cass. I wanted so badly to be good enough. To be more than just a no-good Bodine.”

“No one ever thought of any of you that way,” Cassidy argued. “Except maybe Gibs, but that’s because he’s so pissy.”

“It doesn’t matter if they did or didn’t. I thought it. Sheriff Tucker telling me to leave his little girl be took the breath right out of me. I’d gotten a degree and a good job. I came back here to make myself an upstanding member of this community in hopes that someday your dad would come to me and tell me that I was finally good enough.”

“Dammit, Bowie.” She stood up and stepped between my legs, hugging me hard.

“I broke your heart back then and I’m so very sorry, Cassidy. But you weren’t the only one who got broken.”

She gave a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

I hugged her back and breathed her in.

This was not my finest moment. When courting a girl, it was always better to impress. Here I was confessing my vulnerabilities and fishing for pity hugs.

“You know he didn’t mean that, right?” Cassidy asked, pulling back.

I nodded. “Wish I would have known a long time ago. But do you get how much I looked up to him? He was my coach. He and your mom were there for me every time I needed it. Hell, your parents gave me and my brothers ‘the talk’ in high school.”

“They did not!” Cassidy gasped, drawing back.

I wasn’t done holding her. I pulled her back in and stroked her back. “They most certainly did. Your dad bought us all condoms and your mom lectured us on consent. You remember when my dad threw his back out that one winter and times were tight?”

She nodded against my shoulder.

“I’d outgrown my winter coat or probably shredded it doin’ something stupid. I was wearing one of my dad’s old fleeces. Your dad was waiting for me after school one day and gave me a new ski jacket and gloves.”

“The blue one,” she said, remembering.

I’d worn that jacket every winter until it fell apart.

“I owe your dad a whole hell of a lot and the only thing he ever asked of me was to leave you alone.”

She was silent for a beat. “I’m still mad,” she said finally. “At both of you. But maybe a little less mad.”

“I’m real sorry about the pictures,” I said, stroking a hand up to her neck and down her spine. “I thought it would be funny.”

“I really liked the one of me trying to kick Misty Lynn in the face,” she admitted.

“Me, too. Think you’ll be able to forgive me?” I asked.

Her sigh was long and heavy. “Probably. Just maybe not right this second. I’ve got a lot of figuring to do, Bowie. I don’t want to make another mistake. I’m all mixed up and makin’ stupid decisions left and right. It’s not just about you. My job means everything to me.”

“I know it does, honey. But look what happened when I let someone else get between us.”

She pulled back and studied me. “It’s not the same thing.”

“It is. It’s higher stakes now.”