Ricknodded, lowering his gaze to the worn, leather binding of his book. It was aHawthorne novel,The House of the Seven Gables, and I thought, ifanybody was going to read the classics for leisure, it was Rick.
“Itwasnaewhat I wanted for my life,” he said, offeringa detail that felt confidential for a man as seemingly private as him. “Butwhen he left the business and house to me, I felt I had no other choice. If forno other reason than to appreciate how it was the only thing my fathertruly wantedfor me. He had never liked that I wanted to getwrapped up in the law and forensics. He thought that was risky and reckless,likeIwas the onejoinin’ the force.”
“Hm,”I muttered, nodding. “My dad never cared what we did, as long as we were makingmoney. He never wanted for either of us to rely on a man for support.”
“Whatdo ye do?”
Isniffed a laugh as I shrugged. “I’m an aide to a local politician.”
Ricklaughed at that, tucking a bookmark between thepagesand closing it entirely. “My fatherwouldaebeenjust finewith a job like that. Nice and safe.”
Theache of missing Gracie was then front and center in my mind, piercing my heartand blossoming into a radiating heat that burned all the way down to my toes. Istared into the wood paneling behind Rick’s upholstered armchair, imaginingthat, if I just looked hard enough, I would see her face in the knots andgrain, when Rick cleared his throat and stood from the chair.
“Well,I should tend to the lawn,” he announced abruptly. Then, turning to TJ, heasked, “Wouldyelike to help,laddie?”
Myson sighed as he stood from the sofa. “I guess so. Nothing else to do aroundhere.”
Thetwo left the living room, and as the backdoor shut, the house became cloaked ina heavy, suffocating hush. A clock ticked away the seconds somewhere deepinside its walls, and I was all too aware of the rise and fall of my chest.Every second and every breath, was another my sister was denied, and I thoughtof her. I thought of her eyes and forced my mind to recall her voice, untiltears spilled over my cheeks and into my lap.
“God,Gracie,” I whispered to the universe, hoping she could hear me.
Then,I fell asleep, with the hope I wouldn't see her ghastly face in my dreams.
***
Sometimelater, a sweaty TJ woke me up with a nudge against myshoulder. In his hand, was my cellphone, and he said, “It's Dad. He wants totalk to you.”
Ina fog and wondering how long I had slept, I managed to sit up to take the phonefrom my son. Putting it to my ear, I laid a hand over my eyes and muttered,“Hey, Tom.”
“So,not only did you pull our son out of school to go to Scotland, but you somehowmanaged to get him wrapped up in a fuckingmurder investigation?”
Myex-husband’s brash, accusatory tone startled me from my groggy stupor, and Inarrowed my eyes in quick defense.
“Youknow why I brought him with me,” I replied, immediately angry. “It was a chanceto get away to clear our heads, and—”
“Andput yourselves in danger,” he concluded, a blend of anger and fear chilling hisvoice. “TJ told me you’re staying at some detective’s house because he’s afraidyou’re being followed, and at what pointwereyougoing to call and tellmewhat was going on?”
“Tom,I—”
“You’renot a stupid person, Rosie! And that’s why I can’t understand why you’re doingthis!”
Myheart raced, desperate to defend myself and my actions, while finding no otherexplanation than, “It all just happened so quickly, I haven’t had a chance tocall. I’m sorry. But we’re okay—”
“Itdoesn’t sound like you’re okay to me.”
“Iwas thinking I should send TJ home, actually.”
“What?!”TJ shouted from beside me. “I don’t want to go—”
Icut him off with a slash of my hand through the air as I continued. “I can gethim on the next flight home. But I’m staying.”
Tomsighed heavily. “Rosie …”
Hehad always had this way of patronizing me, and it never failed to piss me off.But I knew it came from a place of genuine care, and that knowledge kept myshoulders from tensing with any new determination to shut him up.
“Ineed to do this, Tom,” I pressed. “The cops here are ruling her death as anaccident and it’snot. Someone killed Gracie, and I cannot come homeuntil I know for sure that they have the bastard who did it.”
“Butyou don’t need to get yourself killed, too,” he replied, his voice a gruffwhisper.
