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“You had a different set of problems,” he said, easily sensing the direction her thoughts had gone and brushing that aside, “but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt you. I’ve seen how upset you are when your mom calls and it’s not pretty.”
“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”
He hummed an agreement. “A little ragged edge never hurt anyone.” She didn’t think that was true, but his eyes were already drifting closed and she let him slip into a still sleep with his heart beating softly beneath her hand as she contemplated his words. Sometimes ragged edges were soft and frayed, like a rope that was slowly coming unraveled. And sometimes it was a piece of shattered glass, sharp and dangerous to anyone foolish enough to handle it.
Eloise was pretty sure she was the soft and frayed kind. A little worn from too much rough handling, sure, but unlikely to hurt anyone. She wanted to believe Ethan was the same, but broken people were hard to judge, and she’d caught enough bitter anger in his story to know he’d been hurt—and badly.
Time would tell, or so her mother had always insisted.
As much as Eloise hated to take her mother’s advice on anything, it seemed there was little choice in her life these days. Nothing but time would reveal Ethan’s truest self to her and nothing but time would bring Kim’s killer to justice.
The darkness in her bedroom deepened before it began to lighten with the dawn, and she slept fitfully until the first of the morning’s birdsong finally lulled her into a deeper, dreamless sleep.
When she woke, the bed beside her was empty and the sheets were cold. Not all that surprising, considering one of them would have to have been awake at a decent hour to take the dog out, but several long minutes of careful listening didn’t give any indications that Ethan or Winston were in the house. There was no music, and the TV downstairs was off. Nor could she smell any hint of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen.
“Ethan?”
She tugged on a robe and wandered downstairs, checking each room fruitlessly until she was convinced that he was indeed gone. It wasn’t like him to leave and not say anything to her about when she could expect him to return.
When he didn’t come back in the time it took her to pull on some clothes and eat a bowl of fruit and some yogurt, she gave in to her worry and picked up her phone.
Everything okay? You’re usually here when I wake up.
She washed her dishes, dried them, and put them away before she let herself look.
I’m with Jackson and David. Could you come over here now that you’re up? I didn’t want to wake you.
It was a strange request, but she figured the best way to find out what was going on was to go over and ask them.
Be right there.
The front door was open when she got there and a quick peek through the screen showed Jackson waving her in before she even got to knock.
“There you are,” David shot to his feet as soon as she stepped inside, his hug a little tighter than he usually gave her. “Ethan told us what happened yesterday, and we were so worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Mmm,” Jackson hummed, somehow infusing the sound with the perfect mixture of doubt and concern. He was wearing a vibrantly pink button down this time, with a pattern of small yellow lemons. It was almost a comical combination with the serious look on his face. “That’s not what Ethan told us this morning. You found a friend of yours killed at the place you work together and the same night there’s a prowler outside your house?”
“Well, I highly doubt—” she began but David cut her off.
“You are not about to tell us that you don’t think those things are related, are you?” The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up nearly to the elbow, like he had been working or thinking hard before she’d arrived. His dark eyes were direct and, though not unkind, more pointed than she was accustomed to.
“I was going to say exactly that actually.” She looked over his shoulder to where Ethan was sitting on the couch, watching the whole event and trying to hide a smile. “A little help here? Since you started this?”
“No help from me.” It wasn’t exactly apologetic, and he met her eyes without any hint of remorse in his gaze. “I knew you wouldn’t bring it up and even with Winston at your house, we still need a few more eyes on the place.”
Eloise sighed and glared at Winston where he sat at Ethan’s feet, watching them with curious eyes. “And you?” she asked. “Did you participate in this, too, you little traitor?”
“He can’t be a traitor,” David argued reasonably. “He’s Ethan’s dog.”
“You were all supposed to be on my side,” she grumbled.
“We are.” Jackson passed a glass of orange juice into her hand and nudged her until she sat down on the couch. “We’re looking out for your safety.”
“What are you going to do?” She twirled the glass in her hands, suddenly uneasy that they all seemed to think she was in real, continuing danger. “I can call the cops just as well as you can.”
“I’m sure you could,” Jackson agreed. “And I can be at your house with a loaded gun long before they get here.”
