Page 83 of If Anything Happens To Me

I closed my eyes for a minute. When I opened them, I saw her watching me with incredible kindness. “I’m not at all surprised,” I said. “I felt how much you understood Eloise and me.”

“Sisters,” she said. “There’s nothing like it.”

“Is she older or younger than you?” I asked.

“Younger,” she said. Like Eloise.

Then she did something I didn’t expect. She came around the desk and pulled a chair next to me. She held my hand, gazing into my eyes.

“You’ve been so strong, Oli,” she said, and paused for a long time. “I’m not sure I could have been that strong.”

“If you lost Jenny,” I whispered.

“Yes.”

We sat there in silence for a few minutes. She didn’t let go of my hand, and I knew we were both thinking of our sisters, of how happy I was that she still had Jenny, and how much we both wished that I still had Eloise.

“I know how hard this year has been for you. As many cases as I’ve worked on, this has meant . . . so much to me. I wanted to catch him for you. I wanted to find the person who killed Eloise.”

“I know you did,” I said.

“But you caught him, Oli. You solved this crime.”

I nodded. With the help of my friends, it was true.

“You even thought to collect evidence. You’re a good investigator,” she said, letting go of my hand.

“Thank you,” I said. I held back for a few seconds, then blurted it out: “I think I want to be a detective someday.”

She didn’t look taken aback at all; she looked happy. “Well,” she said, with a wide smile. “I’m not surprised. I’m not surprised at all. You’ll make a good one.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Absolutely. You like to figure things out, and you’re good at it. When the time comes, I’ll help you.”

That meant a lot to me. My grandmother was slipping away too fast to appreciate what I wanted to do and why. Only Detective Tyrone got it. Well, her and Eloise. It might have been weird to say this, but I suddenly felt as if I had family again. A person who cared about me, who knew me.

“A lot of families just want to move on from what they’ve been through,” she said. “The loss, the investigation. We haven’t gotten to trial yet. That will be hard on you, Oli. It might change the way you feel about joining the police.”

I hadn’t let myself think about a trial yet, but I was ready for whatever happened, whatever it took to put Fitch in prison. “It won’t change what I want to be,” I said. “I am positive about that.”

“The trial will bring it all back,” Detective Tyrone said. “There will be a lot of testimony, forensic evidence, and crime scene photos that will be painful for you to see. You’ll be called on to testify. You’ll have to be up there on the witness stand with Fitch at the defense table, watching you. His lawyer . . . won’t be easy on you or anyone.”

“I don’t care,” I said. “I won’t be easy on him, either.”

She actually laughed at that.

It was time for me to leave the State Police barracks and to say goodbye to Detective Tyrone. Not forever, that was for sure. But our connection would be different now. We knew who had killed my sister, and he was in custody. I hoped Detective Tyrone would be my mentor when the time came.

She put out her hand to shake mine. I couldn’t help myself. I stepped forward and gave her a hug instead.

Then I left her office, went into the outer area, and found Matt.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, giving him a genuine smile, because the weight of the world—or at least a large part of it—had been lifted from my shoulders. Together we walked outside, down the steps, and into his Jeep. He reached across the seat and touched my Turk’s head bracelet. It was no longer white; dirt from the Braided Woods had turned it dark and dusty brown.

“I’m going to make you a new one,” he said.

---