“Ah,” I say. “He’ll need to give you a rain check. Something came up last night.”
I don’t fail to notice Max’s gloved hand grip the door. I worded that as carefully as I could, but the last time “something came up,” it was Max being abducted for four days.
“It’s Kendra, right?” he says, his voice tight. “I heard something about that.”
I wave for him to come in as Stephen bounces, waiting to snag the older boy’s attention again.
“Kendra’s fine,” I say. “Someone knocked her down.”
I’m sure as hell not saying someone tried to drag her into the woods. To my growing list of tasks, I add “tell Dana she needs to speak to Max about Kendra before he hears the full story from anyone else.”
Max looks from me to Nicole again. “Do you want me to take Stephen for a while? So you guys can talk?”
I know “sensitive” isn’t always considered a positive trait in boys, but Max’s empathy always makes me smile… while hoping the world never drives it out of him. Not many eleven-year-olds would have realized that Nicole and I were trying to have a conversation, much less offered to help.
“Please,” I say. “Just for a few minutes.”
“I can take him for as long as you want. No lessons this morning.” He taps Stephen’s shoulder. “Wanna come outside with me? The bakery should have cookies, and then we can check out some feathers I saw in the snow. Figure out what kind of bird lost them.”
Dalton has been teaching Max wilderness craft, which Max has been passing on to Stephen. Is the toddler too young for that? Sure, but no one’s telling Max that when he obviously likes passing on what he’s learned, and Stephen doesn’t care whether he understands it or not. What matters is that this older boy is giving him his undivided attention.
Nicole makes sure Stephen’s snowsuit is zipped up and his hood pulled over his hat. Then Max takes his hand. Storm rises with a questioning look my way.
Max sees Storm and says, “Can we take her?”
“Absolutely.”
I give Storm the signal to follow, and she lumbers off with the boys.
As we watch them from the window, Nicole says, “He’s so good with Stephen.”
“He is. That also reminded me that I’ll need to talk to Dana about what happened last night. Let her explain it to Max in whatever way she wants.”
“I’ll do that,” Nicole says. “Talking to Dana, not Max. Though I’ll also offer to talk to Max, being the resident expert on kidnapping trauma.”
There’s a lilt to her voice, and someone hearing her might be forgiven for thinking she’s joking. She’s not, and that lilt rings just a little bit false. Nicole recognizes she has trauma, and she’d really rather not. I get that. I get it so much, which is one reason we’re such good friends.
By the time I arrived in Rockton, Nicole had been missing long enough that there wasn’t even a case file for me to read, much less pursue. She vanished and evidence indicated she was dead. When we found her, she’d been gone over a year, kidnapped and held hostage in a cave. You don’t get over that. You just don’t.
“I can also talk to Kendra,” she says, voice lowering. “That’s why I came by.”
There’s a reason Nicole’s captor held her in that cave, and it’s the obvious reason a man holds a woman prisoner. If Nicole ever doubts how much progress she’s made, I only need to pointout where she is today—married to a man she loves with a son they adore. Life can’t compensate us for past trauma, but in Nicole’s case, I like to think it put in a good effort.
“You can speak to Kendra,” I say, “but I’ll take Dana.”
“Why?”
When I give her a look, she says, “Oh, sorry, was that too blunt? Am I supposed to say you don’t need to do that and then we dance around it for a while until I finally need to challenge you?”
I sigh.
“You like the direct approach, so I am being direct, Casey. I can speak to KendraandDana, and if Dana likes, I can also speak to Max. Jacob will be back by noon. He can take over toddler watch.”
I want to argue, but her look won’t let me, mostly because she’s right.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll get back to the investigation. I also have to call a town meeting—”
“Nope.”
