“It’s out of necessity and experience.”

“We’ll keep moving forward,” said Dr. Kersey. “Should I continue the emails or not?”

He immediately wanted to say no, but knew the positives outweighed the negatives for Ava. “One a week,” he said. “No more.”

She agreed and ended the call.

“She didn’t understand?” Ava asked from behind him. He turned around. She was barefoot, with Bingo beside her, one of her hands deep in his fur. She still wore her slim black skirt and silk blouse from the memorial. Her hair was mussed with sleep.

He would move mountains to protect her, but the biggest threat was from a small woman who shared Ava’s genes. A woman who was nearly impossible to stop. She attacked with emotions that he was helpless to deflect, and made him feel powerless. “No,” he said. “She didn’t understand.”

“We did what we could,” said Ava. “They’ve been warned. I suspect they’ll learn hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

Drained, he shoved his hands in his pockets and simply looked at her. He didn’t want to talk about Jayne. Or Denny. He was done being an adult for the day.

“Bedtime?” she asked.

“Please.”

The next morning Ava entered the task force room and nodded at Nora Hawes as she looked up from her computer. Ava spotted the dark circles under Nora’s eyes and knew hers were just as bad. Yesterday had been long and they’d all taken the day off for the funeral. The investigators had been torn about the time off. Should they continue their work or take a break to honor their friend? A unanimous vote had made their decision.

Mason had gone to his own desk that morning, aware he had work piling up and that Ava would keep him updated. His absence was palpable.

The other task force members were already present, and Ava slipped into a seat sat next to Zander. “Anything new?”

“Bits and pieces. No new deaths.”

“Always a positive,” Ava muttered.

Nora cleared her throat to gather everyone’s attention. “What do we have from the memorial service yesterday?” She looked at Thad Chari, the detective from Multnomah County.

“We’ve got several hours of footage,” Thad said. “The FBI has generously offered to run it through some of their facial recognition software. That database is limited, but I figure it can’t hurt.”

“Did you get the fight on camera?” Nora asked.

“What fight?” Ava whispered to Zander.

“It was outside during the service,” he said quietly. “Some antipolice protesters decided to exchange words with the bikers who’d shown up to provide protection.”

Disbelief swelled in Ava’s chest.

“We did, Detective Hawes,” Thad said. “Do you want to see what we got?”

“Did we get better angles than the news cameras? I saw the fight on two different stations last night, but they were far from the scuffle,” said Nora.

“I think so.” The detective brought his laptop to the front of the room and spent a moment connecting it to a projector aimed at the large screen on the wall. An image of a long line of bikers appeared. Ava’s throat tightened.

“We tried to get all the faces of the people forming the lines,” said Thad. “Even though it was a remarkable service they provided, sometimes the intent isn’t the best, and we wanted a record of who’d been there.”

“Good call,” said Nora.

The camera neared the end of the line and a small group of people carrying signs moved into sight. They moved close to the bikers and yelled in their faces.

“Seriously? At a funeral?” Anger filled Ava’s chest. “If you have a problem with the police, take it to the proper channels. No one will give you respect when you do that at a memorial.”

“They wanted the shock value,” said Zander. “They’re picking arguments with people who aren’t even part of the police force . . . playing it safe.”

“I wouldn’t get in the faces of some of those bikers,” Ava stated.

“Watch,” said Zander.

Immediately a burly biker stepped forward and punched a sign carrier in the mouth. The man collapsed and hit his head, and his friends rapidly stepped away, leaving him lying on the pavement. Two other bikers stepped out of the line and applied pressure to the bleeding head wound with a bandanna one pulled out of his pocket.

“His friends just left him there,” Ava said in astonishment. “The cowards. Did we get their faces on camera?”

“Yes, we were able to pull some still shots from the video.”

“Did anything else happen?” Ava asked.

“The general crowd took great offense at the protesters’ tactics. Some more words were exchanged and the protesters left for good.”

“Do you have those stills from the protesters?” Zander asked Thad. He nodded and pinned four faces to the bulletin board.

Ava moved closer to see.

“I already pulled the mug shots of three of them. We knew who they were. These three have arrest records in Portland,” the Multnomah County detective said. “The fourth is from Washington and doesn’t seem to have been in trouble before. This is the one who caught the fist to the jaw.” Thad tapped one glum face. The man looked forty, white, and angry.

“Do we know what made this particular group protest a cop’s funeral?” Ava asked. “I mean, outside of the incidents that have been in the media across the nation.” Would that same anger drive him to kill a cop?