Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
“Is that how you sleep at night?”
He glances up at me. “It’s been nearly six months. I grieved her when I had to let her go and again when she went missing. I grieved her for the same reason you’re grieving her. We cared about her, and we couldn’t fix her.”
Fix her …
He rests his hand on my shoulder before opening the door. “She left her mark on the world, and it was a good one. Honor her by moving on and living a good life, Detective. It’s what she would have wanted.”
I swallow hard. She’s still so close to me. It’s a suffocating grief.
“Oh, the body is not hers,” Cornwell says.
I turn. “How do you know?”
“There’s a gold crown.”
“Then why didn’t you tell that to Rains?”
He shrugs. “I wanted to check in on you. Josephine would have wanted me to check in on you. Good news. You’re going to be fine.” He closes the door.
The following weekend, Reagan and I meet Layla and Nora for a Cubs game.
Dinner.
A pool party for the grand opening of their pool.
Coffee just with Layla early on a Wednesday morning before either of us has to be to work.
T-ball.
Movies.
More swimming.
Layla is the sister I never had. She’s not Josie, but she’s a good friend. And she makes good chocolate chip cookies. I’m not saying better than Savannah, but still … really good.
Everything feels easy when I’m with Layla. If I’m having a good day, she’s eager to hear all about it. But if I have a bad day, she’s ready with funny memes and long lists of how my life could be worse. I find myself comparing her to Josie, and that sometimes bothers me. Layla is just my friend. Josie was my everything. There is no comparison, so I don’t know why my brain insists on trying to make one.
“Can I be honest with you?” Layla swings the bat in the batting cage and misses.
“Elbow up,” I say. “Have you been lying to me?”
She chuckles. “Not exactly.” She tosses the bat aside and exits the cage.
“You’re not done.” I narrow my eyes.
“I am.” She sighs. “I hate baseball. And softball. Volleyball. Football. Basically anything that involves a ball. I danced in high school. But mostly, I sat in front of a huge computer and programmed weird stuff. I’m a geek. I like books. Art museums. And the ballet. I love the ballet.” She gives me a little cringe. “Can we still be friends?”
I blink several times. “Did Joe know you hated baseball?”
“Yes, but he married me anyway. That’s why I’m hoping you can still be my friend.”
After another long pause, I nod. “I play the piano. Do you play an instrument?”
“No.”
I frown. “I’ve never been to a ballet. But I’d go with you because that’s what friends do.”
Her smile doubles in a matter of a second. “I’ll get us tickets. Do you want to take the girls, or is it just a friend’s night out?”
“Depends if I have Reagan.”
“Okay. I’m going to just get two tickets and a sitter for Nora.”
I have a moment. It’s the first real moment I’ve had in the weeks that I’ve been friends with Layla. We’ve been a foursome except for morning coffee, which was rushed because we had to get to work. The ballet feels like a date. But I’m not dating. And neither is she. So why am I hesitant?
“Is that okay?” She eyes me suspiciously.
“Um … yeah. Sounds great. Fair warning, my job is a fun spoiler, so I might cancel at the last minute or have to leave in the middle of the ballet if some asshole decides to kill someone.”
“Got it.” Again, she winks.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“You look mighty handsome,” Mom says on our FaceTime call while I tie a red tie that I never wear to work. Still … black suit. “Thought you said it’s not a date.”
“It’s not. But I think I should wear a suit to the ballet.”
“The ballet? That’s where you’re going? Colten, I think that’s a date. Bowling is something friends do. The ballet is romantic.”
I narrow my eyes at the screen. “It is? Why?”
“For starters, you’re in a suit. That in and of itself says romance.”
“I wear suits for work.”
“But has this woman seen you in a suit?”
“Yes. We had coffee before work one morning, and I was wearing a suit.”
“Fine. Then let’s move on to the music. It’s romantic.”
“Not all music is romantic. Trust me, I know a thing or two about music.”
“Are you in denial that this woman might like you more than a friend?”
I check my hair one more time. “No. The reason we’re friends is because we both lost people we loved, and we don’t have a desire to find a replacement.”
“Need I remind you that you thought Josie was a boy, and you said you were only going to be her friend until school started. Look how that turned out.”