Page 28 of Off the Hook

“Oh, I told them that,” Corinne replied calmly as she flipped the cover shut on the bridal magazine in front of her. “But they were more interested in how you were acting when he arrived on Christmas Eve.”

“It’s complete bullshit!” Trevor’s frustration boiled over. “Coulter, you need to deal with this. Hire a lawyer or something. This is going too far. They can’t keep harassing our family like this.”

Dad’s voice of reason cut through Trevor’s rant. “Calm down boys, Waylan is a good sheriff and he says this Detective Pierce is smart. They are just doing their jobs and we need to let them. We all know Coulter didn’t hurt Kylie. They’ll come around to that in their own time.”

Even though I didn’t share his confidence, I said, “You’re right, Dad,” before looping an arm over Corinne’s shoulders from the back and gave her a one-armed hug. “And I’m sorry they bothered you, Corinne. I’ll talk to Faith. This has to be over soon.”

Corinne reached up and squeezed my arm. “I hope so. I’m sorry you are going through this. Hopefully they’ll back offsoon so that you can focus on the important things—like helping us plan this wedding!”

“I still think you need to talk to a lawyer, Colt,” Trevor said, still looking worried.

“We can talk about that later.” I forced a smile as I sat down next to my dad, hoping that I wouldn’t even need a lawyer if they’d move on to finding out what really happened to Kylie. “Let’s talk more about this wedding. What do you guys want to do about music?”

Trevor’s eyes lit up, “What about those friends of yours, the ones you played in a band with back in high school? You think they’d do something like this?”

“Probably,” I cocked my head, liking the idea. “I just saw them on New Year’s Eve, they were playing over at Hog Heaven. Justin owes me one, so I’m sure he’d do me a solid and play for you guys.”

“Oooooh! Live music would be fabulous!” Corinne clapped her hands. “This is really going to happen isn’t it?” She leaned over to kiss Trevor’s cheek. “We’re really getting married in just a few weeks!”

As Trevor and Corinne continued to excitedly discuss their shotgun wedding plans, I found myself half listening, my thoughts drifting. I tried to focus on the conversation, but Faith’s face kept floating to the forefront of my mind. I wondered what she was doing, if she was thinking about me too. This whole thing was surreal—caught between mourning for the love I had lost, defending the life I had, and now developing whatever the hell these feelings were, for the detective investigating the case.

“Hey Coulter, I was thinking short sleeve button downs in a color that matches the flowers for all the groomsmen,” Corinne’s voice broke through my reverie. “And a simple white sundress for myself.”

“Huh? Oh, uh, sure, that sounds nice.” I answered, trying to pull myself back into the conversation.

Trevor shook his head. “Seriously, man, you’re zoning out on us.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, taking a sip of my beer.

Just then I noticed Doreen’s Tahoe pulling into the parking lot. She waved me over from the window. “Oh shit,” I muttered under my breath. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to call her. There were no words. “I’ll be right back.”

“Doreen,” I said, somberly as I approached. My heart hurt seeing her face so pale and lined with grief. It had only been six months since I’d seen her but she looked ten years older.

“Coulter,” she said, her voice trembling as she stepped out of the Tahoe.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

She waved off my apology. “I understand. We’ve all been a mess.” Her eyes squeezed shut as she shook her head before continuing. “I wanted to let you know that we’re having a funeral for Kylie the day after tomorrow. They finally released her body.” She sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “It’s at the Island Community Church at four o’clock. I hope you all can come.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I want to go, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea, considering…”

She tenderly placed a hand on my arm. “I know you didn’t hurt Kylie. I know you loved her.”

Tears welled, and I pulled her into a hug. We stood there, holding onto each other, sharing our grief.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice choking. “I’m so sorry she’s gone.”

After a moment, Doreen stepped back, red eyes glistening. “It’s awful. But we have to give her a proper goodbye. Promise me you’ll go.”

“I promise.”

I watched her drive away, a cloud of pea rock dust in her wake. When she disappeared around the curve, I walked back to the tiki, and sat back down next to my dad.

“How is she?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“She’s a mess, of course,” I replied. “She came to tell us that they’re having a funeral for Kylie day after tomorrow.”

“We should go, and pay our respects,” he said softly.

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