Page 22 of Inside Silence
I should’ve been back at the office, or maybe grabbing a few hours of rest in my bed after slogging through the rough terrain around the lake most of the day. Instead I’m sitting here, wishing I could stop glancing over at Nate’s broad back. His date sitting across from him caught me looking a few times already.
I caught sight of them almost immediately as we walked in. I would’ve turned right back around if Nate hadn’t already seen me. Not that Auden would’ve let me walk out that easily. He was pretty insistent, suggesting we could easily discuss the case over some food and a drink. I’d still been tempted to duck into bed and hide out there after I stopped at home for a quick shower and change.
The shower had been necessary. I was covered in mud, and God knows what else, and was pretty rank by the time the state police forensic team showed up to the site.
We discovered the original crime scene midafternoon when the sun was at its hottest. It was the loud buzzing of flies that allowed us to pinpoint the location, just steps from the trail. We probably would’ve walked right by it otherwise.
There was a fair bit of blood once we knew where to look, and we also discovered what looked like the blunt object—the thick end of a tree limb with biological material stuck to it—used to knock our victim out. Rather than inadvertently mess up the scene, I made the call to bring back the state crime scene techs. I guarded the scene while Auden hiked back to meet them and guide them in.
It was already getting dark out by the time the techs processed the scene.
“Feel better?”
I look up at Auden, who appears to be studying me.
“Maybe,” I reluctantly admit.
The greasy food may not have been the healthiest choice, but it was tasty and it filled my belly. Comfort food was just what I needed.
“Good. You were starting to look a little the worse for wear. You’re not doing anyone a favor by running yourself into the ground.”
Ironically, these are similar words I used on my father, back when he was still sheriff and burning the candle at both ends. He didn’t listen and ended up getting hit with a major heart attack that landed him in the hospital, where he underwent open heart surgery.
I’m painfully aware I carry at least half my father’s genes, and already my doctor cautioned me about elevated blood pressure last time I had a physical.
Again, I have to reluctantly agree with what Auden points out. We’re already short-staffed after Sanchuk smartly, but surprisingly, sent me an email this morning stating he would be taking his early retirement effective immediately. The last thing the department needs is a leader out of commission for any reason.
“Noted,” I concede his point. “And to that end, I’m going to call it a night. I don’t expect to hear anything from the lab until tomorrow morning at the earliest, so I’m going to try for a full night of sleep.”
Auden won’t let me leave a few bills for my share of the tab, but he doesn’t stop me when I get up. He has, in fact, already turned his attention to a baseball game playing on the big screen behind the bar before I even get to the door. There, I chance a quick glance in Nate’s direction, only to find the booth he was occupying with Ginny Collier is empty.
I try not to read too much into that, but I have a healthy imagination.
I’m annoyed with myself as I walk out and cross the parking lot to my vehicle. Why am I still so drawn to the man? I try to force myself to look at him as just an old acquaintance who moved back to town, but it’s not working. Old emotions make a resurgence, both the good and the bad.
The man left me, for crying out loud. He literally disappeared from my life from one moment to the next. It took me a long fucking time to get over that—get over him—but I did, eventually. At least I thought I did.
Up ahead, a dark shape pushes away from my cruiser as I approach. My hand automatically goes to my hip before I realize I’m not wearing my uniform, and I left my sidearm in the glove box of my SUV. My body tenses, bracing for an attack, when the headlights of a passing car reveal the man’s face.
“Can we talk?” Nate asks, taking a step closer.
This is the last place I imagined him to be.
“Where is your date?” is the first thing out of my mouth, and I immediately wish I could take it back. It’s far too revealing.
“Home by now, I guess. And it was only drinks with a friend.”
“A friend,” my treacherous mouth echoes.
He hums once before turning the tables on me. “What about you? Didn’t I see you in there with Maynard?”
“Yeah, we’re working a case together.”
I manage to hold back the snide, “What’s it to you?” comment wanting to roll off my tongue, but I’m sure Nate can hear my defensive tone.
He drops his head and appears to shuffle his feet as an uncomfortable silence settles over us.
It’s a strange situation, an awkward standoff in a dark parking lot. Still, I can’t bring myself to move, the silent limbo feeling oddly safe. Safer than whatever subject he wanted to talk to me about.
