Page 60 of Crossing Lines

“It’s worth a shot.” Stopping by Jo’s wasn’t really all that unusual for Sam and Lucy, but Sam sensed something different about this invitation. Now that they’d caught the killer, maybe Jo was finally ready to show him the files on her sister’s case.

* * *

Kevin sipped water through the straw of the little pink plastic tumbler. It felt good to sit up in bed. Good to drink something. Good to be awake. Even if he didn’t remember exactly why he was here or what had happened to him. The doctors said that was normal. Those memories would come back in time.

At least he remembered the things that mattered, like who he was and who the people important to him were. Like Lucy, the K-9 he worked with and who was trotting through the door right this minute.

Kevin smiled and put his hand out as Lucy raced to his side, her soft nose pushing at his hand, tail wagging, eyes bright. He even thought that maybe she was smiling.

“Hey there, I missed you too.” Kevin patted the top of her head, the soft fur bringing him joy.

“You’re looking good.” Sam appeared in the doorway. “It’s great to see you sitting up.”

“Thanks.” Kevin knew Sam’s words were sincere. Somewhere deep inside his subconscious, he knew that Sam and Jo had been watching over him, keeping him part of the team. “You’ve been coming to visit often, haven’t you?”

Sam pulled a chair up to the bed. “Here and there. Jo’s been coming too. Keeping you up to date on the cases.”

“I appreciate that.” Kevin’s words were sincere. He didn’t actually remember any of the cases but appreciated the effort.

“The other day when I was here, you mentioned something that might have to do with a case.” Sam leaned forward in the chair, his elbows on his thighs. He appeared to be studying Kevin as if this was very important. It made Kevin uneasy, and he shifted his position under the sheets.

“What was that?”

“Something about a corner, and I got the impression it had to do with Thorne.”

Thorne… Thorne… Kevin concentrated as hard as he could to latch on to the fleeting slip of a memory connected with that name. Yes! Thorne was someone important in town but who skirted the edges of the law. He couldn’t remember specifics but was encouraged to be able to dredge up even the most vague of impressions.

“I don’t remember anything about a corner.” Kevin shrugged a shoulder apologetically.

“No? Maybe something about our investigation into Mayor Dupont’s murder?”

Kevin shook his head. He didn’t remember any investigation but didn’t want to tell Sam that.

Sam leaned back in his chair. “It might come to you, but I might have found what you were talking about.”

“Really?”

“Lucy did actually. She’d always been interested in a corner over at the Thorne construction site, so I went over and dug. Found an old glove which might or might not have bloodstains on it.”

“A glove?” Kevin cast about in his mind for any memory concerning a glove but came up blank.

“I was wondering if it could be related to Mayor Dupont’s murder.”

Kevin remembered Dupont. He even remembered something about a murder investigation. But he didn’t remember anything about a glove. “Sorry, I couldn’t say.”

“Oh well, don’t worry about it. I sent it to the lab. I’m sure you’ll remember in time.” Sam got up and patted the sheet atop Kevin’s leg. “I’m going to go. You need your rest. Have they mentioned anything about when you might get out of here?”

“Maybe a couple of weeks if things are still progressing.”

“Good, that’s great news.” Sam walked toward the door. Lucy gave Kevin one last nudge with her snout then trotted over to Sam, who turned to look at Kevin. “I’ll check back tomorrow. Have a good night.”

“Thanks for stopping by.” Kevin vaguely remembered that Sam was a good boss. What was this business about the corner, though? Somehow the memory made him uncomfortable, as if he’d done things that he’d rather forget. But that was in the past… he was sure of that, because he knew he was a good person now. And even if he wasn’t, he had a new lease on life, and he could be a good person for the rest of it.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Bridget crouched down in the corner of the porch with one of the cat treats in her hand and clucked at Pickles. “You want a treat, kitty?”

She was trying to get Pickles to eat out of the bowl in the new shelter she’d made with the box, plush cat bed, and a fleece cat-sized blanket. Cold weather would be here before they knew it, and she wanted the cat to at least have a safe refuge up here on the porch. It would take a while before Pickles trusted them enough to actually go into the house.

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