stood. He made a move toward her, and she held her hand up.
“It’s not that simple, Hannah. We can’t just connect dots simply because they all exist. Yes, we are obviously exploring all avenues, and that means that maybe an old crime connects to a new crime. That’s Investigation 101. But it could also be a drunk who had a little too much at Pinker’s, tried to pass her, and misjudged. Do you understand?”
“No, I really don’t. You haven’t talked to Warren. Did you talk to Lila? Warren’s neighbor?” Hannah pressed, closing in on Wyatt, so close she could see the stubble on his chin, the spray of dark curls at his neckline.
“I know who Lila is, Hannah.” Wyatt’s voice was measured, and his jaw worked. He was getting angry, having his job questioned. Too bad.
“I just can’t leave here until I know something. And all you keep doing is showing up with new questions. The girl in the woods”—Hannah pointed toward the backyard—“was pregnant. She’s not Julia. Aunt Fae was murdered.” And then things she didn’t say. Ruby had fallen out a window. Ellie was Warren’s daughter. So many pieces—but all to different puzzles. Or maybe if she could find the center, it would all connect, like a key. Somehow.
Then a thought. “Am I allowed to go home yet?”
“I can’t make you stay. I can and will ask you to until we close the investigation.”
“That could be months.”
“We’d let you leave before then.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re all we have, that’s all. Alice has been around for a while, but no one in town knows Fae anymore. If we have a question about her history, her life, you’re all we’ve got.”
“I don’t know anything about her life. I haven’t spoken to her in seventeen years.”
“But she’s your family. You know more than you think you do. Just give me a week, if you could?”
Hannah had to stay anyway for Uncle Stuart. She had to sort out the house, the estate; there would be lawyers. Who would clean the house out? She’d have to sell it. Who would buy an almost two-hundred-year-old castle? She couldn’t imagine bringing the plumbing and electrical up to code. The very idea of it made Hannah tired.
Unless she lived here. The thought popped in again, and she quickly extinguished it. Ridiculous. Hannah took a step back, putting some air between them. He followed her, closed the gap.
His hand went to her waist, like he was going to hug her, but stopped. The heat of his palm through her nightshirt had its own current. His head dipped, his voice low, he said, “Can we talk about the other night?”
“No.” The answer was automatic, and then Hannah wilted. “Yes. Of course. I’m acting like a child; I know that. I just . . . I can’t.”
“I know.”
“I’m engaged.”
“I know.” Wyatt drew a breath that sounded, to her ears, ragged. He took a step back then and released her. “You’re it for me, though, Han. Kind of always have been.”
“I don’t know what that means, Wyatt.” But of course she did. She’d be an idiot not to.
There was a sound, a throat clearing, perhaps, and Alice stood in the doorway between the hall and the living room. They jumped apart as though they’d been kissing. Hannah’s cheeks grew hot. Alice was a hospice nurse, nothing more. Hannah didn’t owe her an explanation about her life, and yet Alice stared at the two of them, her jaw tight and eyes narrowed.
“What’s the issue, Detective McCarran?” Alice asked, her voice crisp.
“We think there may be another car involved in Ms. Webster’s accident. We found paint transfer on her bumper, and the road marks suggest she was surprised to find herself out of control.”
“Would have had to be a bigger truck to take that risk then, yes?” Alice asked. “To run her off the road? You wouldn’t attempt that in a small car.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’re looking into who owns trucks in Rockwell. It’s almost everyone, unfortunately. Even you own a truck.”
“I do.” Alice’s eyes narrowed. “Would you like to look at it?” She gestured toward the driveway.
“I might on my way out, thank you.” Wyatt seemed unfazed by Alice’s sudden change in demeanor. But Hannah avoided her eyes, keenly aware of her judgment.
“Why would anyone want to kill Fae?” Alice asked, her hands splayed out before she let them fall to her sides.
Hannah knew why. The town had turned on Fae years ago; she was a witch.