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“I’m going with you. I’ll let you confront him alone, but I’m going with you to watch your back. I need to tell Michael. Give me five minutes. Please.”
She didn’t want to—she wanted to leave now. She wanted to do this alone. But Matt was right. It was better to have a partner. A partner she trusted.
She said, “I’ll wait.”
Wednesday, October 9
27
Colton Fox had owned the thousand-square-foot two-bedroom in Echo Park for as long as Kara had known him. The roughly two-square-mile area where four freeways came together had a lot going on—Dodger Stadium, the LAPD Training Academy, parks, hiking trails, a lake, houses both expensive and cheap. Echo Park was a microcosm of Los Angeles itself and all that the city offered, while also boasting a view of downtown from the hills that led up to the baseball field. Colton had loved living here because it was centrally located to everything he cared about—a rarity in Los Angeles when most people spent hours in their cars every day.
Colton’s modest house stood on the corner of two narrow streets. The surrounding properties included a dilapidated three-story Victorian and a two-story postwar house next door that had been expertly renovated to its full 1950s glory. Colton’s own house had been constructed during the same era, but was smaller and located on an irregularly shaped lot. It was set back farther from the street compared to the other houses, and two towering trees in the front provided ample shade and privacy. Though minimal natural light was able to filter through, Colton had cleverly installed skylights in each room, which greatly brightened the interior. He’d done most of the work himself and enjoyed the process.
Kara remembered when he was refinishing the floors in the living and dining room. She wanted no part of it, but sat on a stool in the kitchen, drank beer and watched, telling him he missed a spot, that he should sand harder.
“Nice plumber’s crack,” she said with a laugh.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Watch it, Quinn. Or I’m going to smack your plumber’s crack, but good.”
“Oh, I’m scared.”
She’d been thinking a lot about Colton lately. Not just since she’d returned to Los Angeles, either. She’d done a lot of comparing her former relationship with Colton and her current relationship with Matt. That wasn’t smart—they were two different men. It wasn’t fair to either of them. And Colton was dead.
Or not.
She glanced over at Matt in the passenger seat. He looked straight ahead, a little angry, a lot worried. Matt told her he loved her, and she believed him, but was still twisting that information around in her head because she didn’t know what to do with it. She had nothing to compare it with.
Colton was comfortable. She knew exactly what to expect, exactly what he gave her and what she gave him, and they never pushed each other to give more. There were months when they didn’t even see each other, then they’d spend a weekend in bed as if they did it all the time. They sometimes worked together, they argued a lot, but in the end, their relationship was about trust. They trusted each other. Love? That she didn’t know. They each went out with other people, never talked about moving in together or anything that couples do.
Kara hadn’t wanted more...neither had Colton. Yet...the last few months before she was forced to take leave and Colton was killed, they had spent more time together not working.
She hadn’t wanted to read anything into it. She couldn’t ask him—hell, they never talked about their relationship. And now he was dead.
Maybe.
She drove past his house; it was dark. There was no For Sale sign in the yard. It looked pretty much exactly as she remembered the last time she was here.
When there was a baseball game, the community felt alive as people roared from the stadium and bright lights illuminated the skyline, but tonight it was dark, the only sound the constant hum of the freeways.
She pointed out the house to Matt, kept driving by, circled around the block, parked on the opposite side of the street. The rear corner of Colton’s house was visible.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked.
“I know where Colton hides his extra set of keys, in a lockbox under a rock behind the garage. I don’t think he’s here—he could be, but I should be able to tell pretty quick. I’m going to let myself in and look around, see what I see. I’d like to do it alone.”
“And if he is there? And shoots you as an intruder?”
“He’s too well trained to shoot first. Please, Matt—I need to talk to him one-on-one. He’s not going to be straight with me if you’re glaring at him.”
“I don’t glare.”
They sat in silence a moment, watching the house. Then Matt asked, “Do you love him?”
“No.” Then she added, “I don’t know if I ever did. I never told myself or Colton that I loved him. I’ve never used those words, but I don’t think so. I wouldn’t even know what it feels like.” She winced. She shouldn’t have said that, because clearly Matt had feelings that she didn’t understand. But it was the truth. She didn’t know how she felt about any of this...she didn’t like thinking about it. The emotions she had were complicated.
Fortunately, Matt didn’t say anything, and if she hurt him he didn’t show it. Damn, she didn’t want to hurt him.
“I never lied to you that we had a relationship,” she said. “It was casual, but I’ve known Colton practically since I graduated from the police academy. So I guess it’s a little more complicated than I want to admit. I’m angry and hurt that he let me think he was dead. I missed him, Matt. It hurt deep inside that he was dead.” She pounded her fist twice on her chest.
