“Ledge isn’t much of a talker, keeps his business to hisself.”

But he was steeped in hers.

After his brief conversation with Dwayne Hawkins, Rusty passed the desk where the jailer was playing poker on his iPad. Rusty thanked him for letting him in, then left the cell block and took the stairs in favor of the creaky and notoriously slow elevator. He was practically jogging his way down. The day was young, and he was feeling very upbeat about it.

That was, until he saw Arden Maxwell in the lobby chatting with one of the SO’s detectives.

That scenario stopped short Rusty’s fleet-footed tread.

He’d seen Arden from a distance, but never this close. Sizing her up, he’d rate her an eight and a half.

He lurked there on the staircase until she concluded her conversation with the detective and left, taking an official-looking envelope with her. As the detective was on his way back up to his department, he met Rusty on the stairs.

“Morning, Mr. Dyle.”

“Morning.” He tipped his head toward the main doors. “Wasn’t that Arden Maxwell you were talking to?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What was she doing here?”

As the detective explained the nature of her errand, Rusty’s lightheartedness of moments ago began to deflate. The detective must have sensed his displeasure.

He said, “There weren’t any restrictions placed on those reports, Mr. Dyle.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” To make a big to-do would only call attention to his interest. “I’m just wondering why she would want them at this late date. Did she say?”

“No, but I’d guess because of her daddy’s alleged involvement in both cases.”

“That’s probably it. She was just a kid when all that happened. It’s understandable, her wanting to learn what she can.” He tapped the detective on his sleeve. “Thanks for seeing to her. Good public relations.”

He tried to appear unhurried as he continued down the stairs. He exited the building and made his way along the sidewalk to the parking space reserved for him in the row nearest to the building. Arden was moving along the farthest row of the parking lot.

Wanting to catch her before she left, he quickly got into his car and drove it over to where she was unlocking the driver’s door of a blue sedan. As he pulled up behind her car, she came around quickly.

Immediately, Rusty discerned two things about her. One, maybe she deserved a nine for the wreath of hair. It looked like she’d just gotten laid.

Two, his charm would be wasted on her. Her posture was rigid, and her expression was bitchy.

He didn’t let that deter him, however. He enjoyed a challenge.

He put his car in park and got out.

“Ms. Maxwell?”

Arden had recognized the sound of the engine even before she saw the car. Her heart was thudding. Her mouth had gone dry. Trying to keep her breathing under control, she bobbed her head in silent acknowledgment.

“Hi, my name is Rusty Dyle.”

Rusty Dyle? The district attorney. With whom Ledge had a long-standing grudge. Ledge’s description of him had been inflammatory, but regardless of that, she would have instantly mistrusted the man’s toothy smile. Her thoughts were rioting, but she replied to his greeting with as much composure as she could muster.

“How do you do?”

He walked toward her and extended his right hand. She was loath to touch him but shook his hand. Not to do so would have alerted him to her aversion.

He said, “I’d heard you were living here again.”

“How did you recognize me?”

“Actually, I didn’t. As I was leaving the building, the detective you talked to pointed you out and told me who you were. Anyhow, it’s a pleasure to welcome you back to Penton.”

“Thank you.”

“Everybody treating you decent?”

“I can’t complain.”

“Good to know.” He looked around as though assessing the town square. “Things haven’t changed all that much since you and your sister moved away.”

“Some things have changed quite a lot.”

He came back around to her and flashed a grin. “Well, we did finally get a new fire station. And a Taco Bell.”

She was expected to smile; she did so vapidly.

“Let’s see, what year was that?” he said. “When you left, I mean.”

“Two thousand.”

“That long? Geez. That was the year I graduated high school. I guess things have changed. I’m district attorney now.”

“I remember Sheriff Dyle.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “My dear ol’ dad. He died a while back.”

“He sticks in my memory because he questioned my sister and me after our father disappeared.”

“Oh, hell. Sorry about that. That whole business.”

He shook his head with regret. Seeming regret. Arden didn’t buy it.

He continued. “Daddy would’ve hated bothering you girls at such a tough time. But, you know, line of duty.”

“Of course.”

“Ever hear anything about what happened to Joe?”

“Nothing.”

“Has he been declared dead yet?”

“Years ago.”

“Huh. I’d lost track.”

He was lying about that, too, and she couldn’t wait to get away from him. “If you’ll excuse me, I really need to—”

“They take care of you in there?” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder toward the building, then pointed at the envelope she carried. “Get what you came for?”

“Yes.”

“Anything I can do to assist?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, if you think of something…” He reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, withdrew a business card, and passed it to her. “At your service. Anytime.”

Arden thanked him with a nod and slid the card into her handbag. “Now, I really must go.”

“Sure, sure, sorry to have detained you. I just wanted to say hi and introduce myself. You have a good day now.”

Congenial smile in place, he went back to his car and got in. He gave her a little wave as he drove away.

Arden got into her car, tossed the envelope containing the investigation reports onto the passenger seat, then gripped the steering wheel with both hands, and laid her forehead on the backs of them. “Lost track?” Hardly.

As she’d told Ledge last night, she wanted answers.

She now had one. The individual routinely driving past her house was District Attorney Rusty Dyle.

Arden’s initial impulse was to alert Ledge to her discovery. But, considering the hostility with which they’d parted the night before, she decided against calling him.

She must speak with Lisa, however. She needed to dismiss the remote possibility that their father was alive and well and keeping tabs on them.

Yesterday, Arden had been hesitant to bring up her childish dream that he would one day come back, afraid that Lisa would either chide or pity her for clinging to such an implausibility.

Learning that Lisa had secretly shared that same vain hope had forged a stronger bond between them. It had been freeing for Arden to see proof that Lisa, the indomitable one, wasn’t totally without vulnerability. She had left Lisa’s office feeling that they had been equalized. The difference in their ages, all the differences between them, had been spanned by a common heartbreak.

But did she wish for Lisa to know that she had identified the district attorney as her “stalker”? Lisa would want to act on it immediately, notify the authorities, assemble the militia.

No. Arden didn’t want to reveal what she had discovered about Rusty Dyle until she knew why he was spying on her. Since he and she had never even met, his interest couldn’t be personal. Which meant it was official and must pertain to her father and two unsolved crimes, one a probable homicide.

She had obtained the investigation reports in the hope they would yield something she could use to defend against the accusations against her father.

By the time she got home, she’d decided on the tack to take with Lisa. She got herself a Diet Coke, sat at the table with the police files in front of her, and put the call through. When Lisa answered, the background noise indicated that she was on speakerphone in her car.

Arden said, “Evidently I’ve caught you at a bad time.”

“I’m only running errands. What’s going on? Did your pervert drive by last night?”

She wasn’t certain Rusty Dyle could be classified as a pervert. Snake oil salesman, maybe. He had that kind of pointy-mustache leer and mannerisms. He’d clasped her hand a little too long for what should have been a polite handshake between strangers. Thinking about him made her shudder.

“Arden?”

“I don’t know for sure if he came by last night or not. I was exhausted. The round-trip drive to Dallas and all.” The “all” being her go-rounds with Ledge. Fighting with him, kissing him, fighting some more. “I was history the instant my head hit the pillow.” She pushed on before Lisa could grill her.

“I’ve given a lot of thought to our conversation yesterday. Speaking for myself, and I believe for you, it was like undergoing open-heart surgery. Grueling and painful, but healing in the long run. I don’t want to dim the afterglow.”

“But?”