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“I like the sound of that.”
Calhoun reached in his desk drawer and drew out his dog-eared Bible, the one that usually rode with them in the cruiser. He handed it over to Jack.
“I want you to have this.”
“That’s your Bible, and besides, you already gave me one.”
“Do you still have it?”
He had a feeling Calhoun had the answer before Jack gave it.
“Uh, no.”
“You’ll have this one, then. It’s time for me to get a new one anyway.”
Jack opened the book, noting the lined passages. “But this one is filled with your notes. Are you sure?”
“That’s why it’s perfect for you. Something tells me you need a little guidance.”
Again, the man read Jack well. Possibly one of the reasons Calhoun was, after all, in police work. He understood the human condition all too well.
“You’re right. I don’t even know where to start.”
“For me, the fact that you even want to know where to start is good enough. Read the book, think about it, and pray about it. Heck, investigate the facts of the Bible like you would a case. It can stand up to your scrutiny. Make sure you don’t forget that it’s all part of a larger story. The story of man and God is most of all a love story. And something tells me you know a little about that.”
Teach Kimberlyhow to operate the lawn mower.
Check.
Turned out that Kimberly used a lawn service, and that she and Robert had used one for many years.
“You, of all people, know how much my husband worked. When he was home, I wanted him all to myself. Not having to worry about a honey-do list,” Kimberly had said with a smirk.
Good enough. Today was supposed to be about the grill. Turned out Kimberly had the deluxe special, a gas grill that turned on with a flick of the switch.
Jack shook his head. “You should have to work a little bit harder for fire. At least fool a man into thinking he’s needed.”
This was only one more reminder of how little he was needed around here, and how much he needed to be somewhere else. Back in the mountains of California, in a small town that had welcomed him with open arms. He didn’t just miss the picture postcard surroundings of Harte’s Peak, but its people.
One person in particular.
“This gives you more time to relax.” Kimberly handed him a soda and started to line up the hotdogs.
Funny how hotdogs made him think of Lexi. He hadn’t even had a chance to say good-bye. What would she think of him?Lexi had just started to warm up to him, and he’d left town. She was probably back to hating him again, if she even gave him a second thought.
Maggie was the real trouble. He woke up thinking about her, and couldn’t lay his head down on the pillow at the end of the day without having her face pop into his head. She’d begun to headline his dreams, always smiling, usually singing. Never cooking. He wasn’t a sadist, after all.
“How’s work?” Kimberly asked, sitting down next to him at the picnic table.
“The usual.” Jack took a swig of the cold soda and set it down.
“You’re just like Robert. Never talk about the job.”
“If I had something good to say, I’d tell you. In our line of work, there isn’t anything you’d want to hear.”
He caught himself referring to their line of work, as though Robert was still there. In a way, he was still with Jack every time he reminded himself to be sharp, to expect the unexpected, and never hesitate to react.
“Is it true that you’re—going to church?” Kimberly’s eyebrows were drawn together, in either curiosity or concern.
