AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Flint. Jack has told me a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope.”
She smiles at me. “Mostlygood things.” When I raise my eyebrows, she laughs. “He says that you work far too hard.” With a conspiratory wink, she adds, “Makes the rest of them look bad.”
“Made more than I did last year,” the captain wheezes. “Worked so much OT we had a meeting about whether or not to put a cap on it.”
Growing increasingly uncomfortable at being the center of attention, I try to end the conversation. “I like my job. Gives me something to do.”
“Good lord, Aiden. You’re what? Thirty-eight? Thirty-nine?”
“Forty.”
He shakes his head sadly. “I should hope you’d have something better to do at your age than work. One day you’re going to wake up and be sixty-five. And then you’re going to look back at your life and wonder where you went wrong.”
“Jack,” his wife warns, “leave the poor man alone.”
But the captain doesn’t listen. He points one thick finger at me. “Don’t waste the good years you have left.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“See that you do. Life’s short—and then you’re dead.” Laughing at the common quip, the captain steps forward and slaps me on the shoulder.
“Yes, sir.”
“See you, tomorrow.”
“Sir.” My duty done, I nod and turn away.
I don’t know why the captain’s words bother me. I love my job. I like knowing that I make a difference. But, still, his observation about my life has a quick flash of panic working its way through my system.
What if this is it for me? What if, twenty years from now, I have everything I ever wanted, but it’s still not enough? The strangest thing about my sudden fear is that the sensation is one that’s completely new to me. I’ve never, not until a few weeks ago, had any doubts about what I want out of life.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Mr. Flint.”
I stop immediately in front of Catherine. Bernard lingers at her side. In the back of my mind, there’s a vague understanding that my feet knew where I needed to be. Where Iwantedto be.
“Just…thinking.” When I look at her, I see that she understands. And it makes me uncomfortable that she seems to see so much of me.
Shaking myself loose from my sidetrack, I step closer and greet her date. “Leard.”
“Flint.” His handshake is loose, his skin clammy to the touch. It’s like picking up a parboiled fish. “I see that you’re acquainted with Miss Beauchamp?” he says.
“Yes. I know Catherine.”
“Professionally? Or…”
I’m looking at Catherine’s face. How could I not? So, I see her pale. But instead of fumbling withembarrassment or joking it aside, she straightens her spine and meets my gaze, waiting for my reply.
“My acquaintance with Miss Beauchamp is strictly professional.” When Catherine’s eyes widen, I turn to Bernard. “She’s assisting the department on a case.”
“Oh?” Leard turns to Catherine.
“My roommate was killed,” she explains, her voice tight.
If Bernard is surprised by her admission, he doesn’t show it at all. He remains completely cool and detached. “I see.”
“It’s not what-”
