Page 5 of More Than Nothing
“Thanks, Doug. Carry on logging the statements for now and we’ll work out our next step.”
When his deputy left the office, Roman turned back to the window with a ragged sigh, suppressing the surge of unease threatening to rise.
The vast, chaotic layout of the Detroit PD had afforded no outside views, only a shared desk with his partner and the hot, heavy scent of too many bodies in an under-ventilated space. This window, looking out onto trees—and yes, the small parking lot, too—was a big tick in the small-town policing box. Being able to see the sky made Roman feel like he could breathe.
Elenie Dax was still there, and he seized on the distraction with relief. Over the next ten minutes, he studied her as she checked her watch, straightened her ponytail, pulled at a leaf, shredded the leaf, dropped the leaf.
What was she doing?
And why did Roman feel so invested?
He knew this town. It remained as familiar to him, as easy a fit, as his favorite sweatshirt. He knew the town fair was coming upsoon. He could predict the stalls that would be there. He knew the Pine Springs History Museum was closed more than it was open. He knew Peggy Winterburn was a troublesome gossip and Ray Parker’s gruff exterior hid a kind heart. He knew there would be cardboard sledding and chocolate galore at the Downtown Winter Carnival in January. He was even pretty sure the local teenagers still necked at the lakeside off Starling Road.
Yet he’d felt out of step with the situation in Diner 43. An audience of one, stumbling in partway through the second act of a story he had yet to make sense of. Watching Elenie Dax maintain her composure in the face of Roberts’ belligerence, his respect for the outgoing police chief had dropped from low to non-existent, disintegrated by the latter’s shitty attitude and the quiet dignity of the waitress with the smoky gray eyes. Now he was beginning to wonder if he’d backed the wrong horse.
The front door of the police station was pushed open and Chief Roberts plowed a path to his Subaru Outback, loosening his belt a notch as he neared the car. Elenie ducked into the treeline. Roman checked his watch; it was 2:45 p.m. Roberts, embracing his apathy in the last couple of days before retirement, had decided to go home early.
With the dust still settling from the Subaru’s tires, Elenie Dax stepped out of the trees and headed for the main doors. Curiosity had Roman pushing back his chair.
She stood in front of Maggie at the front desk, the low hum of their voices masked by the flick-flack of the ceiling fan. Her hair caught the sunlight, natural streaks of red licking like flames through her mahogany ponytail.
“I can handle this, Maggie,” he said.
Elenie’s shoulders stiffened. “It’s just a lost property issue. No big deal.” Her voice was husky, the professional reserve she’d shown in the diner edged out by wary discomfort.
“Follow me and I’ll take the details.” Roman gestured toward his office and ignored Maggie’s raised eyebrows that were expressing doubt at his form-filling abilities.
Elenie took a few steps backward. “Um, maybe later would be—”
“No time like the present when you’ve waited this long.” He gave a fractional nod toward the parking lot and headed back along the short corridor without waiting for a reply.
It was a quiet afternoon, with only three of them on duty besides Maggie, now Roberts had gone home. Weaving between the desks in the open office, Roman frowned at the subdued atmosphere. It felt more like a courtroom in session than a hub of activity. He skirted Dougie, who had trapped a phone between his chin and shoulder and was scrawling notes he’d probably struggle to read later. Officer Forsberg glanced away from her monitor and caught his eye. “D’you need me, sir?”
“No, we’re good, thanks, Kristina.” Roman waved Elenie into his office and half closed the door. “So, how can I help?”
She stepped forward and opened her fist, dangling a jeweled cuff bracelet from her fingers. It was bright, gaudy, and obviously expensive. Laying it carefully on his desk, she prodded it into a straight line of sparkling white and yellow stones.
“I didn’t steal it.” Elenie’s watchful eyes were cautious, her body tight. She looked like a flight risk.
“Obviously not or I doubt you’d have brought it here.” He kept his tone reasonable, his words level. “Please, take a seat.”
She eyed the nearest chair with suspicion but did as he asked. Roman settled himself behind his desk.
“It was on the floor in the restroom of the diner. I found it this morning and Delia told me to bring it here. I’d have come sooner but we were busy.”
This time, he caught a defensive tone. Elenie Dax was like a cryptic crossword or a Magic Eye picture—complicated, confusing. Nothing clear at first glance. She rubbed her nose and examined her surroundings. Roman kept his eyes on her, familiar enough with his new office to know what she could see.
The noticeboard on one wall, laden with leaflets and pieces of paper, some new, some yellow and curling at the corners. A wastebasket, full to the top, next to his desk. The lower drawer of the filing cabinet he’d left ajar. Two outdoor jackets of differing weights hooked to the back of the door; he didn’t know whose they were. Some mess was his own, he’d be the first to admit it. But the space he’d inherited had been untidy when he got here. It didn’t bother him much. He could put up with anything for twelve months.
When he reached for a pen on the desk, Elenie’s eyes skittered back to his face. She smoothed restless hands over a crease in the front of her skirt, frowning at the bracelet. “It was so rammed this morning, I can’t narrow down who might have lost it. But I can tell you everyone I remember who came in.”
“Right,” he said. “Let’s take those details then.”
Over the next ten minutes, Elenie gave him a list of names, singling out anybody flashy or vulgar enough to own a bracelet of this type. He wrote quickly with occasional prompts, admiring her eye for detail and the concise delivery of information. She’d make a great witness.
As soon as they were done, Elenie bounced to her feet like a prisoner granted parole. He thought she’d leave immediately but she paused in the doorway and turned back to face him. Roman could read little in her expression. She had a poker face to rival the best he’d seen.
Elenie cleared her throat. “I heard about Millie Westlake.”
