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Afew days after Colton questioned the suspect in the break-ins and graffiti, I invited him to stop by after work.
I wanted to know what happened, but I wasn’t sure if he could tell me, and I wanted to give him some space to decompress. The last time we’d discussed it, we’d argued.
He hadn’t confirmed the name of the suspect, but everyone around town was talking about Corey Kenna being brought in for questioning. His father, Ryan Kenna, recently opened Harbor Garage with his friend, Jake Stockton.
I told him I wanted to finalize the details of the fundraiser with him. We were supposed to be working on it together. With the investigation hopefully coming to a close—if Corey was named as a suspect—Colton would have more time.
Over the last few weeks, I’d worked closely with Alicia to discuss what the foster kids needed. We invited them to come to the picnic, and I coordinated food and drinks with the shop owners. I planned a demonstration with Shae for yoga and meditation while Colton was in charge of dealing with the town’s event planner, Naomi, and the mayor’s office.
When I opened the door for him, he’d changed into jeans and a tee, but his hair was mussed like he’d run his fingers through it most of the day. He looked stressed.
“I made a new juice. It’s really refreshing, want to try it?” It contained papaya because I’d found some at the local market. It wasn’t something I could carry all the time since we didn’t get papaya in the stores often.
“Sure.” He followed me inside, and I poured him a glass.
Handing it to him, I said, “It’s tropical.”
He tipped the glass back, and I impatiently waited for his opinion.
He leaned down, smiling with his eyes, and murmured against my lips, “It’s great. Just what I needed.”
Pleased he’d already relaxed slightly, I smiled. “I thought you’d like it.”
I refrained from asking how his day was or how things went at work. I had to keep myself busy until he was ready to talk. I moved around the kitchen, cleaning up the blender and spilled juice.
“Are you going to ask how it went?”
I paused and turned to look at him. “I really, really want to. Everyone is saying you talked to Corey Kenna.”
He nodded, then leaned his elbows on the counter. “Chief was pleased with Corey’s interrogation.” When my eyes widened, he hastened to add, “Sorry, I meant questioning. I promise I went easy on him.”
I shot him a look.
“His attorney, Avery Arrington, took me and Dexter aside and asked for leniency. We don’t have any control over what the judge will do, but if she wants Corey to clean up his act now, get counseling, and help Hailey fix up her shop, I’m not going to stand in his way or give him any trouble. In fact, I’d like to help him.”
I bit my lip, surprised at his turnaround from the last time we’d talked.
His expression turned serious. “Your opinion of me matters. I want to be someone you can believe in.”
His tone was genuine yet hesitant, as if he weren’t sure how I’d react.
“I am proud of you.” My heart clenched at his desire for me to believe in him.
“I want you to know I heard what you said the other night.”
He’d listened. Took what I thought into consideration.
I hadn’t expected it. “Thank you. Did you invite Corey to the fundraiser?”
His forehead wrinkled. “I didn’t have a reason to.”
I tapped my finger against my lip. “We’re offering service hours to local middle and high school students who need them.”
“He just moved here, so I’m sure he needs his,” Colton said thoughtfully.
“And like you said, it’s good for him to do service, to be involved in the community. It will make it harder for him to tear down or hurt the people he’s worked alongside.”
