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“Ma’am.”
“Hi. Are you looking for Brick?”
“Is he inside? I thought they were done with it.”
“He was following up on some details. I’m Les.” When she extended her hand, the man’s eyes slid to the house, then back to her again. He started, as if he was just noticing her courtesy. He shook her hand, his palm dry and chapped, his grip like his expression. Distracted.
“Yeah, sorry. My head’s not really right these days. I’m Colin Werther. Um…this was my girlfriend’s house.”
“Oh. Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” She stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. His eyes had a haunted look. Her care skills kicked in, as did her natural desire to ease pain. “Why don’t we go sit on that bench over there, under the tree? I’m sure Brick will be out soon. Or we can text him. He said something about there being toxic stuff in there, so you should probably wait out here.”
“Yeah.” A faint smile touched his face and she grimaced.
“Sorry, you know all that. Do you want a bottle of water? I have some in the car.”
He seemed to take her words in slow motion, a beat behind when she said them. She was familiar with grief’s widespread path. The shock of the loss could radiate into the subsequent days, miring the person in the echoes.
He'd nodded, so she retrieved the water. As she did, she also brought her tablet. If he wanted to sit without conversation, she could make him feel less self-conscious about that by studying. “Did you want me to text Brick?”
“No…I’m sure he’ll be out soon.” When she handed him the water, she offered him a peanut butter cracker. Another painful half smile crossed his face as he shook his head. His gaze went back to the house, as if he couldn’t look away. “So you and Brick…are you his girlfriend?”
She sat down next to him, clasping the tablet in her lap with both hands. “We’re kind of working that out. We’ve known one another a long time. Since we were kids. It’s a recent development, in some ways.”
“In some ways?” He looked toward her.
Perhaps because the subject had turned to something else, he looked a little more tuned into the conversation. Because of that, she decided to be more forthcoming than she normally would be with a stranger.
“I think there’s always been something between us.”
“Yeah. It can be like that. Even when Jasmine and I had our problems, it was still there. It’s inevitable, being with someone you’re meant to be with. No getting away from it. The kids weren’t mine, you know. Two different fathers, and she didn’t really know either one, because of the drugs. But that didn’t mean anything. I told her I’d be a dad to those kids. She was trying. She tried really hard…”
He trailed off. “Sorry.”
“No reason to be. Substance abuse is hard to kick,” Les said tentatively.
“Yeah.” A wealth of turbulent emotions was in the red-rimmed, weary gaze. “What do you do?”
“I’m studying to be a doctor. Third year med student.”
She hesitated before she said it. She didn’t know if that was still true, but a simple answer was best for a man already dealing with too much in his head.
Confirming it, he hadn’t noticed her hesitation. He’d fallen into a brooding silence and was watching the house again. Following the intuition that had compelled her to bring it, she opened the tablet, to make it clear he didn’t have to talk to her if he didn’t feel up to it.
She’d forgotten about the photo. Colin’s attention was drawn to her movement, and his gaze snapped right to it. “How do you have this?” He reached out and lifted it from the tablet pocket. Though she wished she hadn’t revealed it, it was just a copy of what they’d printed in the local paper, not detailed crime scene photos. She assumed it was okay for him to see it.
“It’s in the file. Brick showed it to me.”
“He talked to you about the case?”
“Only the high-level stuff.” He’d shared more than that, because he could trust her with the info. Just like he could trust her not to mention that. Even so, Colin’s unfathomable expression made her uneasy. Would Brick get into trouble if Colin told someone he’d talked to her about it?
“Weird to have that in the official file.” Colin stared at it, his thumb moving over Jasmine’s face. Then over the boy, and the little girl with the bear.
“Were you there the day it was taken?” Les ventured.
He didn’t answer. He rose, still clutching the picture, and moved toward the house.
“Colin, I don’t think…”
