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Post Falls, Idaho

T he black-tie crowd at the inaugural Make It Pink Gala is so large, it’s hard to see everyone who’s turned out to support the new Made with Kindness nonprofit that’s been set up in honor of Maddie and Kaylee by Maddie’s sorority friend Ashlin Couch.

There’s a hiccup at the check-in desk. For the people in formal dress who are in a line that goes past the bathrooms and around the corner all the way to the elevators, it’s a good thirty-minute wait.

No one minds. They are here for a good cause.

They can even buy the merchandise laid out on a table while they wait.

Tonight, even though people are there to support the Goncalveses and Laramies, the Goncalves family—seated around two tables in the middle of the room—mostly keep to themselves.

They lent Kaylee’s name to the nonprofit, but because they know only a handful of people here, one might miss them in the crush. When the emcee mentions Kaylee and Maddie, Kristi puts her head in her hands and weeps. Steve puts his arm around her.

It’s a bittersweet moment. Kristi and the girls have been looking forward to this; it’s an excuse, Steve says, for them to get their hair and nails done and for him to put on black tie.

And it’s wonderful that there is now a scholarship in Kaylee’s and Maddie’s names.

During the event, it’s announced that Xana’s name will complete the trifecta.

But they still haven’t gotten justice for their daughter.

That night, Steve says he’s heard the good news from Thompson that there’s likely to be a court date set, finally, but his patience with Anne Taylor is as thin as ever.

He particularly objects to one line she repeatedly uses in court: “Judge, if we ever get to trial…”

If she doesn’t want to get to trial, Steve says, well, Bill Thompson needs to press the judge—and find a defense attorney who does want to.

Steve is still pursuing his parallel investigation; he’s seeking the answers to a million questions about Kohberger’s connection to the King Road house.

For instance, he says, he’d like to know more about what Dylan saw that night. He feels certain he doesn’t know everything about what she witnessed. Someone told him that she hid in a closet. Maybe she phoned someone? He’s heard there’s evidence on her phone that’s important.

Steve is still pissed that 1122 King Road was demolished by the university when, as he puts it, “seventy-five percent” of the parents were against it. When the time is right, he’ll be ready to look at his options for civil cases. He’s on a roll.

Suddenly Kristi prods her husband. “Is that Blaine Eckles?” she says, shocked, looking across the room.

“It can’t be,” Steve says.

Post Falls is a ninety-minute drive from Moscow.

Blaine Eckles didn’t tell the Goncalves or Laramie families he was coming.

And yet it is Blaine Eckles, sitting with a bunch of random strangers.

“I was a little curious to see how my presence would be received,” the dean later said.

The Goncalves family is stunned, given the back-and-forth over the King Road house demolition.

Kristi and Alivea leap up and go say hello to him. And then they bring Eckles to their table. Steve and Eckles shake hands.

Eckles tells them that the university’s Healing Garden, a project he spearheaded and has overseen to commemorate the victims and help the community grieve, is nearly done.

It’s likely to open in August, at the start of the fall semester. Of course he wants the family there.

When Eckles leaves, readying for his ninety-minute drive back to Moscow, Steve Goncalves actually smiles.

“It’s Father’s Day weekend, and Eckles bothered to come.”

In spite of himself and the fights, Steve is touched.

“Classy,” he says.