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Tyler, while not exactly cheery, at least did a reasonably good impression of a human being at breakfast. He was dressed as though going for a shift at Whistler’s, in black pants and a white shirt, instead of his usual hoodie and jeans.
“What gives?” Jayne asked.
“Mr. Whistler asked if I could come in today, from like eleven to two, because some people are off sick and stuff. I’ve got no classes then so I said I could whip over and do them.”
Jayne didn’t look convinced, but said, “You sure you’ve got time to get over there and back before your afternoon classes?”
“I’m sure.”
“You want me to take a break and drive you over?” Jayne asked.
“Or I could,” I said.
Tyler had his bike, but school was in Stratford, and Whistler’s was across the bridge in Milford.
“I can do it,” he said. “Unless it rains. If it rains, can I call one of you guys?”
We both nodded.
I was, at some point today, going to try to learn what sort of arrangements were being made for Elizabeth McBain. Would I be welcome at any possible service? If not, should I at least send flowers to the funeral home? I was thinking I’d get back to Diedre later, given that she was the one who’d let me know Elizabeth had died.
Jayne was the first to leave for work. She got in her car at half-past eight, about two minutes before Tyler hopped on his bike and went tearing down the street, headed for school. I was settling in behind the wheel of the Explorer when I noticed, in the mirror, a vehicle stopping at the end of the driveway, blocking my way.
Shit, I figured. Detective Hardy again.
Except it wasn’t, unless Hardy had traded in her unmarked cruiser for a pickup truck. In my oversized door mirror I could see Greg behind the wheel. I was going to get out, but he bailed from his truck first and came up to my door.
I powered down the window.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he said, resting his elbow on the sill, one of his personally rolled French cigarettes dangling between his lips. It was down to about a quarter of an inch and appeared to have gone out.
“Thought I’d swing by on my way to work and apologize for coming by last night,” he said, resting his arms on the door sill, his face partway into my car.
“For what?” I said.
He laughed. “I feel a little foolish, is all. I’d been talking for a while with Julie about whether I should ask you about teaming up again, you know. Finally, she says, I’m sick of hearing about this, why don’t you go and ask him? No way, I says. It’s late. So what, she says, get your ass over there and ask him. So, I did.”
“Sounds like Julie might be the best thing that’s happened to you in a while.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I did kind of put you on the spot.”
“I said I’d think about it. But for what it’s worth, Jayne thinks I should go for it.”
Greg looked impressed. “Well, nice to have her on my side.”
“Look,” I said, “I wanted to talk to you about something you said the other day. About when you came to see me, when I was at my worst. You know.”
“Yeah, what?”
“That part about me saying that it was all my fault. About Brie.”
“Don’t worry, man. I’ve never said a word about it.”
“That’s not—no, that’s not what I mean. I just wanted to say, that doesn’t have to mean what you might have thought.”
Greg shook his head. “You don’t have to explain.”
