An hour later, Alisa came down the stairs around five forty-five. She looked like she'd thrown some water on her face, brushed her hair, and applied some makeup. But he could still see the dark circles under her eyes, and while the minor cuts from the car crash were still visible, they were less swollen, less red.
"Did you take a nap?" he asked.
"I tried, but as soon as I closed my eyes, all the images from the park came back to me, followed by other terrible memories. I pretty much just tossed and turned and then decided what was the point?"
"You could try thinking of something good to replace the bad."
The gold in her eyes glittered as she said, "I tried that, too, but that just made things more confusing."
He didn't want to ask what was confusing her because he knew, and he had no answers. Thankfully, she didn't seem to want to talk about it.
"What are you doing?" she asked. "Have you talked to anyone on your team?"
"Yes. They found the shooter's van, still trying to track him down. Beyond that, there's no news."
She pulled up a chair and sat next to him. "Can I use your phone to text Henry and see if he's home?"
"Sure. Do you know the number? Because I think we have his personal number in the file."
"You do? Why?"
"Because he's a potential person of interest."
"I know his number. I memorized it a long time ago, and numbers stick in my head."
He handed her the phone, and she sent the text. A moment later, she got a reply.
"He's home now, and he said he's alone. He wants to knowwhat I want to talk to him about and why I'm calling him from this number."
"Don't answer. Just tell him we'll see him soon.
"Okay." She sent the text and handed him back the phone. "I was thinking that we could drive by my parents' house on the way to Henry's. He only lives about four blocks away. I'd like to see the damage."
"I've seen photos of the house. There's nothing to salvage. If there was, I would have told you earlier."
She slowly nodded. "Okay. But I still want to drive by."
"It will just make you sad."
"Then I'll be sad," she said with a shrug. "Even if I don't see it, I'm going to feel that way. My mom took a lot of pride in the house. She loved to decorate. We never had much money, but she was great at finding interesting items at thrift stores or flea markets. She loved furniture that had a story, which is odd now that I think about it since she never had any curiosity about my dad's story. But an old teapot made her want to know everything about it."
"The teapot was safer. It wasn't going to upend her life."
"True. Anyway, I guess she'll have to start over. I just don't know if she'll be starting over alone."
He felt a wave of sympathy for how her life had turned upside down. "She'll have you, so she'll never be alone."
"You're right." She took a deep breath. "Shall we go?"
"I'm ready," he said as they stood up.
"I have to admit I hate to leave this place. It's like an oasis of peace and security in a very chaotic world."
"We'll be back soon. We'll stop by Henry's and then the hospital to check on your mom. If all is well, we'll pick up a pizza and come back here."
"That sounds like a plan. But I have this gut feeling that it's not going to go that smoothly."
His gut was saying the same thing. He just hoped he wasn't leading her into another dangerous situation. But Henry hadbeen good friends with her parents for over ten years, and he needed her to get information out of Henry. Otherwise, he'd take the meeting himself. It was a risk, but a calculated one. Hopefully, his calculation wasn't wrong.