Page 195 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass
“Great.” He sat behind his desk and pulled a sip from his water bottle as he heard the front door open, then close.
Thomas came in, dressed down in slacks and a sweater, and shut the door behind him with a sharp snap. “What in the hell is going on around here, Nathan? I just got back to the house after having this damn growth cut off my forehead”—he pointed to the big bandage—“and Leah’s telling me about how you and your Connecticut cop friend were wandering off into the woods, stirring up the press—keeping Mac stationed by the Tahoe and blocking the path so they wouldn’t follow you.”
He shrugged. “We had work to do.”
Thomas made a scoffing sound as he took a seat across from Nate. “This is exactly what we don’t need right now, Nathan. They’re watching everythingyoudo.”
He ignored that the mayor punctuated the last three words. “I can’t be worried about that.”
Thomas looked at Nate’s case board and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, good heavens. The only dead people on this island are the ones tucked away at the cemetery. When are you going to put this nonsense to rest? Do you know what gossip about hikes through the woods, murder, and missing women will do to our reputation as a safe place to visit?”
Nate stayed seated instead of standing, clenching and unclenching his jaw as he felt his temper heating. “So you’re thinking I should probably just let this go?”
“There are certainly other things that should be a higher priority. The kids will be out trick-or-treating tonight.”
Nate nodded agreeably as his anger grew. “Dropping the whole thing is probably better for the town.”
Thomas’s shoulders relaxed. “Yes, exactly.”
“So, Sanchez and I should just look the other way and ignore that a possible crime happened here?”
Thomas frowned. “Of course it didn’t.”
Nate tilted his head to the side, as if he were considering. “You’re probably right.”
“Certainly.”
He leaned forward, knowing full well his blue eyes burned lethally. “But what if it did?”
“Nathan—”
He shook his head. “I’m not worried about fucking gossip. I’ve got an active investigation—”
“Says who?”
“Says me—the head of law enforcement around here. And Hartford PD. A missing woman was last seen on this island twenty-two years ago. Her kid mysteriously ended up at a diner a couple hundred miles away. That’s worth looking into.”
“You just said it yourself. Twenty-two years ago. Now, I’m sorry Callie’s had to go through what she did. She’s a lovely woman, but enough is enough.”
“Enough will be enough when I say it is.” Nate pointed at Thomas with each word as he said it.
Thomas gained his feet. “You’ve got some nerve talking to me like that—especially when I heard this morning that you’ve been sniffing around in my personal family business.”
Nate let his head fall back as he closed his eyes, struggling to maintain his patience as he looked at Thomas again. “If you’re talking about Jordan, that still falls under the line of me doing my job.”
“He was eighteen twenty-two years ago.” He paced away and back. “You’re questioning your friends and neighbors—”
“You’re damn straight. If they don’t like it, they’ll get over it. If they have nothing to hide, they’ll understand that I’m just doing what needs to be done.”
“That girl is blinding you to your responsibilities. You’re an elected official.”
He rushed to his feet now, consumed by a swift kick of rage. “Callie isn’t blinding me to anything. The people of this island elected me to keep law and order, not bury potential leads to make the mayor happy and for tourist dollars.”
“Those tourist dollars pay your salary.”
“And they’ll keep on paying it. If you’re worried about PR, put your head together with Fannie over at the tourist bureau and come up with some sort of campaign, but don’t tell me how to do my job.”
Thomas moved to open the door.
