A breakdown. That’s what she’s telling me, in her way. She had a breakdown while I was gone. I remember me quipping that Mom and Dad said a surgeon needed steady hands. It might not have been the reminder of our parents that made her flinch, but the memory of a time when her hands had not been steady, made shaky from anxiety.
“April, I’m sorry—”
“No need. I am fine. I have questioned…” She stops, her voice quaking. “Regarding my work, I have questioned what I am doing and where I am going. I need a break. I know that. I hated stopping during my episode, and yet when you offered me the chance to come here—the excuse to take a few days off—I jumped at it. When you first suggested I might not be able to leave quickly, I panicked. And then I was relieved. I need a break. This will do.”
I nod slowly. “All right. That makes sense. We’ll speak to the council, but I suspect it’ll be an easy yes. We can take you home to make arrangements. You’ll need to speak to friends and colleagues, set them at ease, particularly whomever you called before you came up here—”
“No one.” She blurts the words. Her cheeks color, and she averts her gaze. “I feigned placing a call. There is no one…”
When she trails off, my heart breaks a little.
“Colleagues then,” I say quickly. “You need to let them know you’ll be gone.”
She nods.
“We’ll sort this with the council,” I say. “And then we’ll take you home to straighten out everything else. First, though, I have a killer to trap.”
FORTY-SIX
We put Isabel in charge of talking to Phil about April. I know my sister is eager to get an answer, and this is really not the time for me to handle it. I have a suspect to test, and
a plan for doing that. This plan involves Diana again. She knew that, and she’s been waiting. While Dalton goes to give Isabel her task, I set out to speak to Diana.
I’m talking to her behind the general store when she spots Paul.
“Perfect timing,” she says, and she starts to leave.
“Hold up,” I say. “Eric’s not back yet, and Paul isn’t going anywhere.…”
Too late. She’s already jogging toward Paul, and if I chase her, he’ll suspect a setup. Damn Diana.
I shake my head and glance around for Dalton. Then I turn my attention to Diana, as she walks briskly across the road from Paul. He spots her, slows, and crosses to speak to her.
Bait taken.
I walk from behind the store and peer about, as if looking for someone. Diana grabs Paul’s arm and whispers something. He glances in my direction, and then quickly looks away. Diana shuttles him off, their backs to me.
Now, the plan is for her to take him into the woods to talk. I’ll follow at a—
“You!” a voice says.
I turn to see Roy bearing down on me.
“I want to talk to you, Detective.”
“Not now. I’m—”
“I don’t give a shit what you’re doing. I am a citizen of this town, and you can take two minutes to listen to me.”
I glance toward Diana, to warn her I’ve been waylaid.
“Do me the goddamn courtesy of looking when I’m talking to you,” Roy booms.
“Give me one hour. Come by the station at—”
“You’re kicking me out. I just heard it from that pretty boy who took Val’s place. He told me to pack my things. This is bullshit.”
I cast a surreptitious glance in Diana’s direction. There is no way she can’t hear Roy, yet she hasn’t stopped. Hasn’t slowed.