Page 13 of In the Dark of the Past

“This is my shocked face,” Autumn deadpanned, but her tone was kind. Coaxing.

I tried to smile but couldn’t quite get there.

“We met in college, technically—after Libby transferred—but it was back here that things really started. After I moved home, Finn moved with me. Got an apartment with Cade, actually. My dad was on the force, then—a sergeant—and Finn had just finished at the academy. He was new to the department. And they worked together.”

“So, was it a secret, scandalous romance between the rookie and the boss’s daughter?” Autumn said, waggling her brows.

Libby snorted into her drink.

“Not exactly,” I said, shaking my head. “It wasn’t scandalous at all, really. He was kind and intense and so ridiculously noble. And there I was, struggling with what I wanted to do next. He made it feel okay to be a little lost.”

“But obviously something changed,” Autumn prompted.

“My dad got pulled into a case,” I said slowly. “Something big, though I honestly can’t remember what it was about anymore. Maybe I’ve blocked it out.” I shrugged, realizing that my manner of speech had changed, my sentences shortening to something that maybe wouldn’t be quite as painful. “There were whispers about mishandled evidence, some bad calls. I thought it was just politics, you know? People in power, turning on each other. But Finn…” I glanced at him again, watched him tip his head back as he laughed once more. “He wouldn’t let it go. Even when they moved him on to another case.”

Libby’s smile faded. She knew the next part.

“He kept digging,” I said. “And then he came to me one day and uttered the words that would shatter my entire world. He told me he thought he’d found evidence that my father was involved. That he’d doctored some evidence. Took bribes. He said he didn’t want to believe it.”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the rest. “When I argued and told him there was no way, said I knew my dad, knew he’d never…that he was the best man I’d ever met, it was like he wouldn’t even listen. He was stuck on what he’d found and his beliefs. Told me he had a duty to the badge, to the truth. Whatever that truth was.”

The images in front of me blurred, and I realized that my eyes were tearing up. Both Libby and Autumn noticed, and they each reached out to take a hand.

“Not long after,” I continued, “despite me tirelessly telling him he had to be wrong, that what he’d found must be misleading somehow, he told me he had uncovered something concrete. Enough for them to open a formal investigation.”

Autumn’s brow furrowed. “What happened then?”

I shook my head. “They did just that. Finn gave Internal Affairs everything he’d found, testified, and they went after my dad.”

“Oh, River. I’m so sorry. What was the outcome?”

“Despite everything, I still didn’t believe it. I just couldn’t. There was no way. I was convinced it was a mistake. Maybe Dad had been working on the case and things looked the way they did for a reason. I asked him, but all he’d say was, ‘Let it go, jellybean. It’s too dangerous.’ I tried talking to Finn again, but he wouldn’t listen. He just…refused. It ultimately broke us.”

“So, what happened with the investigation?” Autumn asked, and Libby gave me a sympathetic look. I knew she was telling me without saying it aloud that I didn’t have to say more, but something in me wanted to tell Autumn the rest.

“Not long after he was put on leave,”—my voice cracked on the words—“I came home from work and found him locked in the garage. He’d used a hose to asphyxiate himself.”

“Oh my God, River.” Autumn reached for my hand again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Naturally, I blamed Finn,” I said, staring into my drink like it held answers to the past. “My logical brain knows he was just doing his job, but at the time…it felt like a betrayal. A big one. Like the man I loved chose the job over me and my family, and it cost me everything.”

Libby sighed beside me, the sound somewhere between guilt and grief. “She left town not all that long after the funeral when things with the estate settled down,” she told Autumn. “Packed a bag and disappeared.”

“I couldn’t breathe here,” I said. “Every corner reminded me of Dad. Of Finn. Of everything I couldn’t fix.”

“What about your mom?” Autumn asked.

Libby and I shared another look. “My mom was institutionalized when I was twenty-one. She died there not long after.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Autumn said, then stood and came around behind me, wrapping me in a hug. I crossed my arms and put my hands on her forearms, soaking in her warmth.

She gave me one last squeeze and then retook her seat. “So, yeah.” She pursed her lips. “I get why you left. But now?”

“Now, I’m back,” I said simply. “Older, though not sure about wiser. However, I do see things more clearly. But it still hurts, you know? Seeing him. Being around him.”

“You still love him,” Autumn said gently. It wasn’t a question.

I didn’t answer. Not directly, at least. But I didn’t deny it, either. There was a fine line between love and hate.