Page 44 of Copper

I understand the words, and I trust Aaron. I just wish someone would explain it to my PTSD.

I take deep breaths, trying to let Aaron’s heartbeat calm me. He strokes my back, and I let my eyes close. I’ve had to be strong for too long. The first time I get a night with Aaron and his daughters, this happens. Why? Have I been on a constant adrenaline kick, and I let my guard down?

“Do you want to talk to someone about this that isn’t me? We have a great counselor at the station who may be able to recommend someone.”

I shake my head. “I can’t. Anyone I told before, well, they either aren’t my friend anymore or it got back to…” My voice trails off. It’s hard to say his name when I remember what happened. “I tried to ask for help once and talk about it, but he found out and hit me so hard my left ear made a ringing noise for a week, and I had to get a veneer for a couple of back teeth.”

“This help is OK, Lucy. She won’t be able to tell…him.” Aaron can’t say the dickhead’s name either.

“I know it won’t get back to him,” I whisper, my mouth wanting to move. To talk. Tell Aaron everything. “I know he won’t find out about any of this.”

“Come here,” he says, leaning back and pulling me with him along with a red blanket that’s draped over the back of the couch.

He tucks the blanket around me, and I close my eyes. I could sleep right here, curled into Aaron’s side with a warm blanket and fire in the fireplace. “It’s OK, Lucy. The door is locked. Murphy Beckett is dead. Almost all of the guys who threatened you are dead. You’re with me. Mickey is here. You’re safe.”

“Safe,” I mumble to myself over and over, willing myself to believe it.

Chapter 22

Aaron

Colesonwalksintomyoffice, shuts the door so hard that the blinds rattle against my window, and sits in my guest chair without being invited. I freeze with a late afternoon coffee halfway to my mouth. Raising my eyebrows, I smile at him over my mug. “Is something upsetting you?”

“Nothing that should. We scraped Murphy Beckett’s computer,” he says, just as my desk phone lights up with one of the department’s assistants trying to reach me.

“And?” I ask, pressing the ignore button.

“We have a suicide email to the vice president of the motorcycle club.”

“Why are we upset?” I ask, squinting.

Coleson shrugs just as my phone lights up again. I wipe my forehead in agitation and press ignore. “Are you going to take that?” he asks, nodding toward my phone.

“Nah. It’s probably not important. Get back to the Murphy problem.”

“There is no problem. It’s cut and dry, just like my smart boss said. We have a suicide note, and you wouldn’t believe what we found in the library.”

I lean forward in my seat. “Tell me it rained dickhead names.”

He smiles. “Happy Easter, boss. We got the names and offshore account numbers for every member of the mafia and every trafficker we had our sights on from here to Cleveland. I turned it over to the feds. They were pretty happy.”

“Why are you pouting in my office?”

“We got him, but something still doesn’t feel…right. I don’t know how to explain it. You know that pit in the bottom of a police officer’s stomach that says it isn’t as easy as it looks?”

I nod. I know that feeling well. I’ve had it a lot lately, too, but things seem to be working themselves out just fine.

“Do you want to hear my advice?” I ask.

“That’s why I came in here.”

I put my mug down and prop my elbows on my desk. My phone lights up again, and I sigh, looking away from it. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Think of it like it’s college football. We got a win and should enjoy it until we get our asses handed to us the next time a big fish comes into town.”

My phone lights up yet again, and I point toward the door. “I better get this. Someone obviously has their ass on fire.”

As soon as Coleson shuts my door, I pick up the phone. “Yeah, Bertie,” I say, answering the assistant in the nicest voice I can muster. She’s older and sweet. The kind that brings cookies on a random Wednesday.

“Sheriff Dwyer, there’s a man here to talk to you. Says it’s urgent.”

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