“Did you call the police and press charges?”
“No.” I stare down into the empty cup. “I quietly dressed, careful not to wake the man whose name I didn’t know. I called an Uber and went home.” I shake my head. “I did exactly what they tell you not to do. I bet I showered six times; each one was as hot as I could make the water. After that, I poured out every drop of alcohol that I had in my apartment and then promisedGod, and any other entity that would listen, that if I didn’t contract any awful disease or end up pregnant, I’d never drink again.”
“And?”
“God did his part. And I did mine, for a little over six months. Then I let myself go easy—a drink here and there. I’ve been diligent about moderation until returning here.”
“What about your friend?”
“The one from that night? I was too embarrassed to contact him. About two weeks later, I received a text saying he took a job in Maine.” I shrug. “I never saw him again. I don’t know if he really left town or just never wanted to see me. I guess we weren’t as good of friends as I thought.”
Keith stands and comes closer, staring down at me. “You can pour out every last drop of alcohol if it makes you feel better. Your friend was an ass.”
“You don’t know?—”
His finger comes to my lips. “I know I’m out here because I didn’t think you should wake alone, and last night there was no sex, just two incredibly confused outsiders trying to figure out the secrets that are right in front of us.”
I look up at his brown stare. “Maybe the secrets don’t exist. Maybe we made up the idea?”
“Craig is dead. Marty is dead. Your sister was assaulted. If that’s our imagination, we need to figure out a way to turn that shit off.”
My chin drops to my chest as I recall Julie’s agitation upon waking. “I wish it wasn’t real.”
This time he lifts my chin until our gazes meet. “I don’t want you to think I didn’t want more last night—I did. But I’m not in Blue Gil for a long-term anything. I want to get the fuck out of here and never come back.”
“I know the feeling.”
“It’s not that I don’t do casual sex. I have, too many times. It’s that last night I got the feeling that you and I have similar thoughts about what’s happening around here. I’ve been trying to work with Joseph Manes. It’s like working with” —he points— “that tree or that chair. Joe either has no ability to brainstorm or—and here’s my professional assessment—he doesn’t want to. He wants it to all go away. And if we shut up, maybe it will.”
“He did that announcement yesterday,” I say.
“Not willingly. I’m not sure who forced his hand.”
It was my mom, but I don’t offer that. “How do you know it wasn’t what he wanted to do?”
“Like I said” —Keith takes a step back— “the sheriff would be happy if we forgot anything happened. But you...you have plausible ideas. You showed me your notebook last night. I think you have some theories worth investigating as best as we can. I have the ability to access some resources, and you can access others. I didn’t want one night of sex to change what we could do as a team.”
“A team?”
“I’m getting nowhere the way I’m going. A team—if you want to work together?”
“I showed you my notes?”
“Yes.”
I let out a long breath. “Everyone keeps telling me todrop it when it comes to Craig. As I told you, my dad sent me away from my sister. I’m not exactly in a position to get information.”
“Let’s talk about what we know,” Keith says, taking another step back.
“Come inside,” I say, opening the glass door, “while I get more coffee.”
With Keith stopping at the breakfast bar, I walk into the kitchen. As I refill my cup with warm coffee, I begin reciting what I know. “My sister was assaulted and locked in a gardener’s shed. I don’t know if she was left to die or if the man who hurt her was going to go back to get her. Marty is dead, and so is your brother. They were found in the same area. Am I crazy for thinking they are connected?”
Flipping through my notebook, Keith looks up. “You mentioned something about Marty last night. Do you remember?”
This man is a detective. Maybe he can help. Working alone, I’m running out of options. I decide to answer honestly. “Her eyes were missing.”
He nods. “And...?”
