Page 38 of Shadow Justice

She didn’t thank him. He didn’t need her to. She got plates from the cabinet and opened the first box. Steam rose from the pizza, carrying the scent of garlic, cheese, pepperoni, and green chiles. The second box held garlic knots glossy with butter and herbs. Blue sat beneath the breakfast bar, alert for falling cheese.

They ate at the counter because the table had a stack of receipts on it, and neither of them seemed inclined to move them. The food was hot, salty, and better than Reid remembered. Holly ate two slices and one garlic knot, which felt like a victory he had no right to claim.

He waited until she’d finished most of the second slice before he brought up Hopper.

“How much do you know about the support group members?”

Holly wiped her fingers on a napkin. “I know most of them by name and coffee preferences. Who likes to sit where. Not their stories, though. I don’t eavesdrop.”

“So you don’t know Hopper’s reason for attending.”

“No.” She leaned back slightly. “You’re still thinking about him.”

“Yes.”

“Because he’s big and quiet?”

“Because of the way he watched us this morning, came back for the group, sat where he could see the door, reacted to sudden movement and noise when the delivery driver flew in, and left alone without talking to anyone.”

“That could mean he’s traumatized, shy, or he hates small talk, which is not a crime.”

Reid didn’t say anything, chewing a bite of pizza.

She studied him over the rim of her drink glass. “But you think he fits what the FBI is looking for.”

“I think he fits enough to check.”

Holly set down the glass. She didn’t snap at him, and he gave her credit for that. The day before, she might’ve defended Hopper on principle, simply because Reid had raised the possibility. Tonight, she looked unhappy but willing to let the uncomfortable thought exist.

“He drinks black coffee,” she told him, “pays cash most of the time, and occasionally buys a blueberry muffin, but only if there aren’t many people in line.”

“Why only then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t like making anyone wait.”

“Or doesn’t like attention.”

She picked at the edge of her napkin. “He isn’t rude. He doesn’t stare at me in a creepy way. He just seems…lonely.”

Reid didn’t dismiss that. Loneliness could harden a person. It could also hollow them out. Neither outcome proved guilt, but both mattered when lives were at stake.

“I’ll look into him,” he said.

She nodded, but he saw the conflict in her. She didn’t know Hopper well, but she still wanted him to be innocent.

They cleaned up their plates and Reid took the boxes to the alley dumpster. Blue watched every movement, devastated when no pizza fell and only mildly restored by the approved dog biscuit Holly gave him afterward.

The second night in her place held less sharp awkwardness than the first. They moved around each other with ease. She didn’t have to explain anything or point out the location of the bathroom or where the glasses were stored. Routine had begun forming around them.

Reid didn’t like how much he wanted it.

Holly went to bed a little after ten, pausing in the hall the same way she had the night before. “If you need anything…”

“I’m good.”

“Okay.” She glanced at Blue. “Good night, buddy.”

Blue thumped his tail once.