She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have a plane to catch?

Will laughed. “He’s a good cop. The chief was impressed with his background. I like him, too.”

“Ask him out on a date when you get back,” she snapped.

“I think you’re more his type.”

“Go away.”

“Going, going. Be careful, okay?”

“I promise.”

Will left and Carina walked over to Nick and Steve.

“I don’t like being treated like a suspect by my own brother,” Carina overheard Steve say to Nick before he saw her. He glared at Carina. “Detective Kincaid,” he snapped.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but Hooper left and I need to talk to you, Nick.” She eyed Steve suspiciously. She flat-out didn’t like him. Though he’d moved down on the suspect list, his attitude about his affair with Angie and the other college girls left her with a sour taste in her mouth. She certainly wouldn’t want him anywhere around Lucy, though she suspected her sister had a good head on her shoulders and wouldn’t be sweet-talked by a guy twice her age, regardless of how attractive or clean-cut.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, then shut it and walked away. Carina watched as he spotted Angie’s friends Abby, Jodi, and Kayla. The foursome embraced.

Nick tensed beside her.

“I’m sorry,” she began. “Will left and I wanted to point out the undercover team since you’re not familiar with our people.”

“I saw them.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I guess we’re not as discreet as I thought.”

He grinned at her. “Maybe I’m just better than you thought.”

She hadn’t thought of Nick Thomas as much of a joker. She liked the lighter side of him.

But a memorial service was no place for lightness. His humor dissipated as he kept his eye on his brother.

“You know,” she said, “he’s not guilty.”

“I know.”

She watched Steve Thomas closely. Angie’s friends certainly didn’t look scared of him. Kayla was a bit standoffish, but that was her personality. Rough and prickly. Abby and Jodi, on the other hand, constantly touched his arm, his back. Jodi left her hand on his forearm, leaned over and whispered something in his ear, then kissed his cheek.

Dillon’s explanation of why Angie was attracted to older men made sense, even if Carina herself couldn’t relate to the girl. But Abby? Jodi? They were from traditional families, didn’t seem to have the same dysfunctional issues that Angie had dealt with.

As she observed Steve, she realized that it was him. He didn’t act like a man nearing forty. There was no difference in the way he acted and dressed than any of the other college guys who’d come to pay their respects. She remembered Dillon pointing out that he would have assumed, based on action and demeanor, that Nick was the older brother.

She’d thought he was, too.

The two brothers couldn’t be more different. Steve was gregarious, friendly, talked to everyone, and fit in with the students, though he was substantially older than most of them.

The sheriff, on the other hand, was aloof. Serious. Focused on his task. Even now, he was scanning the room. Discreet. On the outside he appeared casual, but she felt his rigid posture, his intense, subtle perusal of each person who walked up to the casket.

Carina couldn’t read Nick’s expression, which bugged her. She prided herself on being able to read people. “I guess things are still strained between you and your brother.”

“You could say that.”

“Were you two close before…this?”

He shrugged. “Not as close as when we were kids.”

“Why’s that?”

“Living in different states.”

“Why didn’t he return to Montana when he was put on disability?”

“Why does this sound like an interrogation?”

“It’s not. Just a conversation.”

“Hmm.”

He wasn’t answering her questions so she changed focus. She was curious about Nick Thomas, far more curious than simple professional interest. “How long have you been sheriff?”

“Nearly four years.”

“Before that?”

“Deputy.”

“For how long?”

“Eight years.”

Getting Nick to answer questions was like pulling teeth. Either he really didn’t want to talk, or he was truly a man of few words. She’d thought they’d broken through this reticence over the last few days they’d been on the same team.

“You?”

“Eleven years on the force, made detective fifteen months ago. I dropped out of college to join the police academy.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I dropped out of law school for the same reason.”

“Law school?” She looked at his profile. Ruggedly handsome, tan from spending a lot of time outdoors. “I don’t picture you as a lawyer.”

He shrugged. “I guess I didn’t, either.” Was that regret in his voice?

“What happened that you changed your mind?”

He didn’t answer right away. Then, “I didn’t like the idea of sitting at a desk all day.” He looked right at her and Carina swallowed. There was something very intense about Sheriff Nick Thomas. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt the brunt of his scrutiny, and it was a little unnerving, a little heady. Sexy. “That, and I wanted to help troubled kids,” he said. “You know the type, good kids in bad situations. One thing led to another and I joined the sheriff’s department.” He gave her a half-grin that made her insides melt. “What about you?” he asked. “Why’d you drop out of college?”

Her answer to that had always been flip: to spend more time on the waves. But the truth was that she’d spent more time in the ocean during her three years of college than the last eleven years on the police force.

“Someone I loved was murdered.”

Nick inched closer to her. He didn’t touch her, but she felt the caress in his voice more powerful than any physical connection. “I’m sorry. Violence changes lives. Everyone evil touches is affected.”

She couldn’t pull her eyes from his. The depth of compassion, of pain, of understanding…Outside of her family, she’d never found anyone who truly understood how she felt, why she’d needed to be a cop. Nick did.

“My nephew,” she whispered. “He was seven.”

Nick’s jaw clenched. “Did they catch the bastard?”

Carina shook her head, turning away as unwanted tears sprang to her eyes.

Nick squeezed her shoulder, briefly, but with strength. She took a deep breath.

“What do you think of that guy over there?”

Nick didn’t point, he barely gestured, but Carina read him like a lifelong partner.

A young man stood alone, separate from the crowd, half-obscured by a potted palm. Just shy of six feet tall, lanky, wearing slacks and a button-down.

As they watched, he approached Angie’s mother, who sat looking shell-shocked in front of the closed casket. They’d spoken to Mrs. Vance earlier in the day, sharing the bare minimum information they could, while still honestly answering her many questions. The pain and anguish in Mrs. Vance’s eyes, learning about her daughter’s sexual activities, had broken Carina’s heart. Already, the chief of police was fielding calls from the press, which had begun to sensationalize the case.

Carina would have given her right arm to protect the Vance family from the media onslaught, but there was nothing to be done. The media seemed to think freedom of the press meant freedom to be callous.

Angie’s mother blinked, then jumped up and wrapped her arms around the man who’d approached.

“Friend, relative of the family?” Nick asked, almost to himself.

“Probably, but it was a good call; solitary male under thirty watching the crowd.”

Carina’s radio beeped and she spoke into it. “I need to check with the team outside. I’ll be back in ten.”

Nick watched Carina briskly exit the room. She was an interesting woman. Full of confidence, drive, intelligence. Driven by her nephew’s death, though it didn’t consume her. She had allowed his sympathy when offered, accepting it without bristling or complaint.