Page 7 of Finding Our Reality

“I do. Most people live where they work. Makes life easier, you know.”

Why am I being an asshole to her? I’m the one who left her.

She scoffs. “When? Did this just happen? Marcum would’ve told me.”

I toss my folder and notepad on the table and fold my arms across my chest. “I’ve been back for years. And he has a rule—he doesn’t talk to me about you, and he doesn’t talk to you about me.”

She starts to toss her hands in the air but quickly forces them back to her side, clenching her fists. “What are you talking about? How could he talk to me about you? I didn’t even know there was ayou.”

She says the word ‘you’ with enough disgust that it tears a small hole in my already-empty heart. “There’s always been a me.”

What I want to say is ‘there’s always been an us’. But I don’t. Because that would make me an idiot. I let her go for a reason, to have a great life, and I bet she’s had one.

She bites her lower lip, thinking about those words. She opens her mouth and then closes it. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she massages her temples. “I can’t even fathom this right now.” Snapping her head, she puts back up her Ella wall. “Well, there’s definitely gonna be some discussions with Marcum, but nonetheless, you still need to tell me what you’re doing here.”

“I thought we established that I work here.” I run my finger across the sheriff’s department emblem on my black polo, and then I tap my weapon. “It’s not a water pistol, Lulu.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Harsher words have never been spoken.

“I’m not stupid. Obviously, you are a cop. I mean what are you doing in this room? With me? Why are you the detective on Carrie’s case? I need some answers. Ideservesome answers. Why on earth would Marcum give this case to you?”

“He didn’t give it to me. I asked for it. As soon as I made investigator two years ago.”

“Why would you want it? Best way to keep an eye on your asshole brother and his merry band of douchebags?”

I’m shocked. “You cussed. You never cuss out loud. Only in your head.”

“A lot can change in nearly twelve years, Ry. You can thank yourself for that.”

She rips my heart from my chest. I never thought I would hear my nickname fall from her perfect lips ever again. Only one other girl calls me by that name, and it’s not the same. Nothing in life has been the same without Lulu. And she’s right. A lot can change in twelve years, but some things never change. Ever.

I lick my lips, thinking about her words. Her pain. Her anger. “You’re right.” I clear my throat and walk to the table, picking up the small file folder with only the highlights of Carrie’s case in it. “Did you just come by to get an update on Carrie’s case?”

She stares at me, not saying anything. She blinks.

She’s hiding something.

I cock my head to the side. “Lulu,” I warn.

She folds her arms across her chest, biting back at me. “Stop calling me that.”

“You found something, didn’t you?”

She snorts. “Maybe.”

“Lulu, I’m not playing this game with you.”

Wrong choice of words. I didn’t mean to say anything that had a sexual connotation to it; it just slipped out. She remembers, though. She remembers the games we used to play. She tries not to blush. Really, she does. But it happens just the same. She pretends to busy herself with straightening the zippers on her large leather bag.

Then, she remembers who she is and stares me down again, trying to bore a hole into my soul. “Well, if I did find something, it would probably be the most activity my sister’s case has seen in the past twenty-four months. Two years, Ry. You say you’ve had it for two years, and I don’t remember getting any phonecalls telling me you’ve found Carrie, telling me you’ve arrested someone.”

That burns my ass. I’m a good detective. A fucking great detective. She knows nothing about me. I mean, the new me.

“It’s a stone-cold case, and you know that. No new forensics. No new leads. Nothing. I’ve studied it and re-interviewed everyone that I can. Don’t question my abilities or my allegiance to this department. Or my allegiance to your sister. Despite what happened between the two of us, I would never shove this case in a drawer and forget about it. I would never do that to you.” I trip over my words, stumbling like a fool. “I mean, I would never do that to Carrie.”

She just stands there like a statue, giving me one curt nod when she finally decides that I’m telling the truth. This standing and nodding crap? It’s just like the night we first met. She’s driving me mad. I drag my hand over my jaw and touch the items on my duty belt in nervous habit. “Now, you plan on telling me what you know? What you found?”

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