Page 53 of Deadly Avarice
A quick check of my work e-mail was all it took to find the video. I forwarded it to Becks, along with a quick and dirty message explaining what it was. I got a thumbs-up emoji and knew Becks was on the job. I considered forwarding the video to Boone as well but decided against it. He needed rest and watching that video wouldn’t be conducive to that. I’d show him tonight when I got back home.
I started my vehicle and was pulling out of the police parking lot when what just went through my head fully dawned on me. Home. Such a simple, four-letter word, and yet it meant everything. I had to think back to the last time I’d stepped foot in my house. I used to call it home, but that name no longer fit. The answer was simple, my house wasn’t where Boone lived.
Death notifications were never easy. It was one of the parts of the job that couldn’t be taught. You learned as you went. Lucas Davies’s family wasn’t wealthy. They weren’t even middle class. First impressions told me they were just scraping by.
Mr. Clinton Davies welcomed me into his home, the grim look on his face told me he knew why I’d knocked on his door. I wish I could have proven him wrong. Mr. Davies sat in a worn-out recliner, the faux leather cracked and worn. A piece of duct tape wrapped around one of the corners. A toddler, maybe two at oldest, tottered around until he sat the little girl on his lap. I could only assume this was his youngest grandchild. Mr. Davies held the child tight as he listened to me tell him about the death of his middle child. There were no tears. I wasn’t fool enough to think that didn’t mean the man wasn’t hurting. You could see the pain in the pinch of his weary eyes and grooves of his weathered skin. His fingers shook as they shifted his granddaughter, moving her into different positions as she uncomprehendingly listened to me describe how an uncle she’d never remember died.
As expected, Mr. Davies hadn’t had any leads he could offer. According to Lucas’s father, Lucas had gotten involved with the “wrong crowd” and spiraled. Drugs had become a constant in their life and house. The tipping point was when Mr. Davies found Lucas’s drugs hidden in his grandchildren’s shoes. While he hadn’t directly kicked Lucas out of the house, he’d laid down the law and made certain Lucas understood how unacceptable that was. According to Mr. Davies, that was the last night he saw his son.
I sat there, engine idling outside the Davies’s home. My shoulders were hunched from fatigue. I felt emotionally drained from the last hour. It was amazing how much more exhausting emotional depletion was than physical.
My fingers were lax against the steering wheel. My brain felt just as limp. I’d left my card with Mr. Davies and he’d promised to speak with his remaining son and daughter. Mr. Davies didn’t think his daughter would know anything, but he said Lucas had been close with his younger brother. I wasn’t about to hold my breath, but I wouldn’t rule out the possibility. Stranger things had happened.
My phone pinged with a missed text message. Opening it, I heavily sighed when I saw the name Holland attached to it. I didn’t think I had it in me to speak with Boone’s father. At least, not right now. It was a simple message, just two words:call me. I considered doing so and dropped my phone onto the passenger’s seat. I needed a shit ton of caffeine before I attempted that phone call.
Finally pulling away from the curb, I headed back to the precinct but when I came to a stop, I turned left instead of right. I needed to set eyes on Boone. My concern was a constant niggle at the back of my brain. My trip back home wasn’t completely altruistic. I needed an emotional pick-me-up and that wasn’t something a quick stop through a drive-thru could accomplish. I needed an Erasmus Boone fix, and I needed it now.
Chapter
Eighteen
Erasmus
I’m not sure when I fell asleep. Given how shitty I’d slept last night, it was no wonder my eyes slipped closed when my head hit the couch pillow. Thank Gaia for Loretta’s healing potion. I could feel the warmth of its healing effects along my neck and back. The shooting pain was gone, leaving a dull ache I could live with, or at least sleep through.
My dreams were peaceful, or at the very least, unmemorable. I woke to the feel of fingers carding through my hair, the gentle brush of nails along my scalp. At first, I thought it was Momma, but her fingers were far more delicate. With a contented sigh, I whispered, “Franklin.”
“The one and only,” Franklin answered with a kiss to the top of my head.
Eyes still closed, I blindly reached forward. Franklin’s fingers intertwined with mine and I pulled his hand close. Given the angle, he had to be sitting on the coffee table. With a yawn, I finally opened my eyelids enough to peek at the man sitting across from me. “Is it evening already?” I asked. The clouds had settled back in, and the room was shrouded in pale shadows.
“Not yet. It’s just after one p.m.,” Franklin answered.
“One? Why are you home?” I sat up, only wincing slightly at the movement. Loretta’s potion still had a ways to go, but I already felt so much better.
“How are you feeling?” Franklin asked instead of answering my question.
“Much better.” I rubbed the back of my neck as I sat upright. “Loretta stopped by earlier.”
Franklin’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Captain Loretta Cicely?”
“One and the same. She was kind enough to bring me a couple of healing charms. Well, more like healing potions. I drank the first one and it’s already doing its thing. I’ll take the second tomorrow.”
Franklin’s quick inhale distracted from his suddenly glassy eyes. “I considered asking her, but I wasn’t sure. I knew you were in worse pain than you wanted to let on and I promised myself that if you weren’t feeling better by tonight that I’d find a way to force you to go to the doctor.”
“Trust me, if it weren’t for Loretta’s potion, there wouldn’t have been a lot of force required. I’d already figured out that I was being a stubborn fool and needed more than that innate stubbornness to heal,” I finished with a sheepish grin.
Franklin released my fingers and eased back, a light chuckle falling from his lips. While the laughter wasn’t forced, it highlighted just how tired he appeared. The last twenty-four hours had been stressful, and worry was a heavy weight to cart around.
“Hey.” I reached forward, resting my palm on Franklin’s thigh. “I’m going to be fine. Probably better than fine by the time Loretta’s healing potion gets done with me. It’s not specific, and according to your generous captain, it seeks out inflammation and repairs the cause. My joints are going to be singing Loretta’s praises too.” I offered a crooked grin that Franklin returned in kind.
“At this rate, I’m going to need to add another fruit basket to my list.”
“Got a lot of others to thank?”
Franklin grunted. “Yes, and that list is growing.”
“That’s not a bad problem to have.”
