He studied the others. “In that case, I’ll take that one.”

It’d been her second favorite.

He eyed her. “Unless you’re uncertain about the first one?”

“I want it.” She did. The more she looked at it, the more she saw her sister’s sense of isolation in the bleak seascape. But in a good way. A healing way.

“We have good taste,” he pronounced. He glanced around the quiet shop. “I’ll find a salesperson.” He walked off.

Ava exhaled. The man’s comments confirmed that Jayne did have some talent—and not just in the eyes of her sister. She wondered what Mason would think of the constant reminder of Jayne in their home. Not that it’d be the first one. She was reminded of Jayne every time she looked in the mirror.

A saleswoman bustled over with David in her wake, clearly excited that two of the paintings had immediately sold. Ava added the chest of drawers to her purchase, along with the bag of beach glass. She avoided looking directly at other charming pieces in the shop, knowing she’d stumbled into a store that spoke to her heart. Her wallet couldn’t take the expenses right now. Retail therapy had been an unexpected part of her healing process.

Last Wednesday had been her first time back at the FBI office in two months. It’d been a time of physical, mental, and emotional recovery from being shot at close range as she wrestled with a serial killer. For a long time, she’d wondered if she’d return at all. The trifecta of her injury, a deadly infection, and Jayne’s suicide attempt had thrown her into a deep dark pit.

She’d struggled to find her way out.

The quiet therapist who had annoyed Ava last spring had turned out to be a godsend. Ava had thought Dr. Pearl Griffen meek, but there’d been a backbone of steel and a sharp mind under her docile exterior. She’d pushed and prodded Ava until her brain had seen life as it truly existed. Not the contorted version she’d started to believe in.

Mason had stood beside her the entire time, taking his own leave from work and spending hours simply being in her presence. They’d talk or they’d sit quietly. It didn’t matter; he was her rock. The message was loud and clear that he was there for her.

In sickness and in health.

She looked at the diamond sparkling on her left hand. It’d felt odd the first week, but now it was part of her. A symbol that she and Mason could handle any garbage their lives threw at them.

Surely they’d been through the worst.

Returning to work had been a burst of invigorating fresh air. Before that she’d spent weeks feeling torn into pieces and slogging through some of the deepest depression and pain she’d ever experienced, but she’d emerged strong and hopeful. She’d been placed back in criminal investigations and assigned a caseload that focused her brain and made her feel useful. Returning had been the right thing to do.

What doesn’t kill me . . .

She’d fought her way out of that black pit and was on the right track thanks to Mason and Dr. Griffen. Each day would be a new step in her journey, her doctor had told her; nothing completely goes away. If you think you’re over it, you’re deceiving yourself.

Ava understood. She had a form of PTSD from a cocktail of Jayne’s emotional abuse and her own physical trauma. Now it was embedded and woven into the person she was. Forever.

Her phone rang in her purse. Mason.

“Denny’s been murdered,” he blurted.

“What? Are you okay? What happened?” She made a beeline for the shop’s door and stepped outside for privacy.

The line was silent for a few seconds. “Yes, we’re all fine. We don’t know who did it. I found him this morning outside the cabin. His throat was cut.” His words were clipped, his tone short, and she knew he was struggling. Her heart broke for him.

“I’m so sorry, Mason. You’ve worked together for a long time.”

A text beeped at her ear, and she glanced at her screen. Her boss wanted her to call him immediately.

Ava suspected it wasn’t a coincidence. “Do you need me to come out there?” she asked.

“No. I’m good.” He paused. “I just needed to call you. I had to tell you.”

She understood; she would have done the same.

The pain echoed in his voice. He was trying to hide it, but he couldn’t fool her. She knew him.

He’d had some rough moments with his boss, but Ava knew he had a lot of respect and fondness for the man.

“What’s next?” she asked.

“The county sheriff passed on the case to OSP.”

“Will there be a conflict?” Ava asked, knowing most law enforcement agencies shouldn’t handle investigations of their own people.

“I don’t think so. This is different and no one’s more qualified to handle it than OSP.”

Ava didn’t fully agree but held her tongue.

“Except you guys,” Mason admitted.

“Do you want to me to request we offer support?”

The phone was silent. “I don’t know yet.”

She heard him cover his phone and reply to someone in the background. “I need to go,” he said. “I’ll call you as soon as I know more. I love you,” he said fervently.

She echoed the three words, ending the call as she worried about his pain. It took a lot to push Mason to reveal his feelings. No doubt all the men with him were experiencing the same thing. A quad of tough cops, accustomed to being the backbone of whatever situation they walked into, had been stripped bare and left dangling.