Page 117 of The Fixer

“I couldn’t fit these in my suitcase, and I was hoping you could take them to the Western Slope women’s shelter for me? Or give them to Hailey. She’ll know what to do with them.”

Mind numb, he took the bag from her and dropped it beside him. “What does this mean for us, Joy?” His breathing stopped.

Her eyes turned glossy again, and his pounding heart plummeted to his knees. “I don’t know, Charlie. I need to get back and dive into the mounds of work I’ve neglected before I can come up for air and devote any thought to the rest of my life.”

“I’m guessing I’m part of that ‘rest of my life.’ Good to know where I stand.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then howdidyou mean it, Joy?” His voice slid up a decibel or two.

She picked up a tiny tank top and twisted it around her fingers. “I don’t … Charlie, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not … My world has been turned on its head. Up is down, and down is up. I need to get back to what I know, to where I belong, so I can find my way. I’m rudderless right now, and I’m no good to myself, to anyone—especially you. Can you help me out here and try to understand?”

Her world was topsy-turvy, but his was imploding, and he wasn’t feeling so generous. “What about our project?”

“You proved a long time ago that you know your business. I’ve just been getting in the way. You’re my partner, and I trust you. You have carte blanche.”

Small consolation, that.

“You’re running, Joy. That’s not you.”

Shaking her head, she dropped the top and pressed her fingers to her forehead. “You don’t know me.”

I thought I did.“No, I guess I don’t.”

His heart sat like a boulder in his chest as he helped her pack her car. He debated ad nauseum whether to hang it all out there and let her know what was etched on his heart, but survival instinct kicked in and clawed him back from tumbling headlong into making a complete ass of himself.

She spared the dogs more minutes in her good-byes than she did him, and he told himself it was better that way as he watched her pull away. He closed and locked the front door and busied himself with feeding the dogs and filling the feeders, musing that if he was such a great guy for doing something as mundane as making nectar, why the hell had she left him with little hope to cling to?

He cruised past the guest bedroom and looked in, hoping he’d awakened from a nightmare and would see her sitting there, propped against the pillows, her long, bare legs crossed at the ankle as she tapped away on her keyboard or talked into her headset. His illusion, unsurprisingly, was shattered by reality.

As he was pivoting away, something poked out from beneath the bed, snagging his attention. Leaning down to pluck it up, he realized it was oneof the letters he’d discovered in Helene’s bedroom. The crazy notion thatthiswould bring Joy back struck, and hope broke the surface once more.

He pressed her number on his phone, and she picked up on the first ring. “You left one of the letters behind.”

“Burn it,” she sighed. “Or bury it back in the wall with all the other memories, where it belongs. I don’t want it. Bye.” She clicked off.

He stared at his device, feeling the finality of her words slice through him. Frustration and pain collided inside him. Why hadn’t he left the damn things where he’d found them?

He fingered the envelope, opened it, and teased out the letter, weighing it in his hand as he wrestled with guilt over snooping. Hell, he knew this woman’s body inside and out, what harm would it do to delve into her mind a little more, to understand what had sent her scurrying?

Out in the living room, he lay back on the couch and unfolded the letter. Luna whined and shook beside him, and he slid her a side-eye. “I know she let you up here, little girl, but she’s gone, so that stops. Now.”

Luna ignored his stern voice and gave him the puppy eyes. Soon he relented and patted his stomach. She hopped up, and he stroked her head.

“Damn, I am way too easy to manipulate.”

Beside him, Sunny whimpered.

“I get that you miss Joy too, but you’re too big to jump up here.” The dog was a glutton for ear scratches, so he indulged her, feeling a little less glum. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”

He settled in and began to read.

Dear Darryl,

I am so sorry to hear about the trouble you’re having with Joy. I’m distraught to learn her behavior has worsened. I prayed she would settle in once she was part of your family. I don’t understand why she continues to act out. She has always been a willful child, too clever by half, but when Sid was with us, he was able to keep her calm. She was his little princess. Sadly, it is becoming more obvious with time that only Sid had the secret to fixing her.

What shall we do? I pray every day for a solution. I can’t bring her to Colorado permanently. Mary is finally adjusting, as am I, and I worry about upsetting that balance and what it could mean for Joy’s safety.

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