Steven: Delia mentioned there’s a drip in her bathroom faucet. Want me to go over to the house and fix it? I can change the air filters and replace the batteries in the smoke detectors while I’m there.
As tempting as that was, Vero was probably right about setting boundaries.
Finlay: Thanks, but it can wait until I get home. Give the kids a kiss for me.
I tucked my phone away and took a deep breath before returning to the bar. Vero was already chatting up Tyrese and Officer Roddy by the dartboards, and since we’d agreed it would be smart to spread out and talk to as many of our suspects as possible, I returned to the table we had abandoned.
Nick’s chair was empty. Joey was sitting in mine, engrossed in a game of poker with Samara, Georgia, and Wade. I dragged over a chair, discreetly searching the bar for Nick as I sat down. I spotted him in a booth a few feet away, hunching over the table as he talked in low tones with an attractive, bookish-looking man in horn-rimmed glasses. I turned to Sam as my sister considered her cards.
“Who’s Nick talking to?” I whispered.
She leaned around me to see. “That’s Stu, our department’s shrink.”
Stu’s ice water sat untouched on a napkin beside him. He hadn’t even bothered taking off his coat. “Does he always hang out with OCN on Thursday nights?”
“Nope,” she said, drawing a card and placing a peanut in the middle of the table. “Dr. Kirby’s not really the cutting loose type.”
“Then why’s he here?” I asked. Joey glanced up from his cards at me, rolling his toothpick around in his mouth. I pretended not to notice.
“Feliks’s attorney is playing dirty,” Sam said, “trying to have one of Nick’s witness statements thrown out, claiming the witness isn’t competent to testify. Nick asked Stu for his professional opinion since Stu met with her a couple of times after her arrest.” Stu pushed an envelope across the table to Nick. Nick opened it, skimming the contents. “I’m guessing Stu’s letter to the prosecutor is in that envelope. Either that or Nick’s clearance to get back to work.”
I turned back to Sam, surprised. “I thought Nick was running the police academy thing.”
“Only because he hasn’t been cleared to do much else.” At my puzzled look, she went on to explain. “Counseling is standard protocol after an officer-involved shooting. Hell, any of us would have needed a few extra sessions with Stu after what Nick survived.”
“How about you two quit gossiping and deal.” Joey threw down his losing hand as Wade dragged the pile of peanuts toward him. “Nick asked Stu to teach a couple of classes at the academy next week. I bet that’s why he’s here.”
Samara raised an eyebrow at Joey. “I’ll take that bet.”
Wade pushed three peanuts to the center of the table. “My money’s on Sam.”
“Me, too,” Georgia said, tossing in a few peanuts from her pile.
Sam shuffled the deck as Nick and Dr. Kirby rose from their booth.
Georgia called out to them. “Hey, Doc. Want to stick around and play a few rounds? We’re just getting started.”
Stu paused beside our table as he buttoned his coat. “Your stakes look a little rich for my blood,” he said with a self-deprecating smile, earning a laugh from everyone, “but I’ll see you all next week.” He turned to Nick and lowered his voice. “I’ll see you Tuesday evening after your classes let out.”
Nick nodded once, his eyes dull as Stu left the bar. Joey, Wade, Georgia, and Sam all glanced up from their cards to look at him. I’d thought I couldn’t feel more guilty than I had in the bathroom just now, but I’d been wrong. Less than an hour ago, Nick had been sympathizing with me over everything I’d been through, telling me I didn’t need to apologize for needing time and not calling him back. I had been so afraid of what I might accidentally say to him if I did, I hadn’t stopped to consider that he might have just needed someone to listen. The weight of a hundred crushed cars settled on my chest. It only grew heavier when he didn’t sit down.
“I’ve got an early morning tomorrow, so I’m going to head out,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.
“What’d Stu want?” Joey asked, reaching for the pile of peanuts.
Nick held up the envelope. “He says Theresa Hall is fit to testify. I want to get this letter to the prosecutor before Kat has a chance to dig her heels into this.”
Sam raised her middle finger at Joey as she swept her winnings toward her.
Nick pulled a few bills from his wallet and left them on the table to cover his portion of the tab. “Drive safe,” he said to no one in particular. A chorus of goodbyes rang out from various corners of the room. He paused beside me, his smile bittersweet. “It was good seeing you, Finlay.”
I gave an awkward wave as he limped toward the door, angry and frustrated with myself as I watched it close behind him.
“You just going to sit there?” my sister muttered at her cards. She smirked as I jumped out of my chair and grabbed my coat.
“Nick, wait,” I called out, rushing after him as his cane clicked across the parking lot.
He turned, hunched against the icy rain that had begun to fall as I caught up to him. For a moment, we just stood beside his car, staring at each other. “Do you want to get in?” His voice was husky, the air between us crackling, the same way it always seemed to whenever we were alone together.
“No,” I said quickly. “I mean, I shouldn’t.” I shouldn’t want to get in his car, but I did. And that was precisely the problem. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not calling you, and that I wasn’t upset. Not with you.” His eyes were intent on mine. His cheeks were flushed and his breath was warm. Our clothes were getting wet, and his offer was becoming more tempting by the second. I shivered, but I didn’t think it was from the cold. “I should get back inside. I’ll see you next week.”
“I’m really glad you came tonight,” he said as I backed away from his car.
It wasn’t a lie when I said, “I am, too.”
CHAPTER 9
Tyrese, Vero, and I were the last to leave Hooligans. An icy rain had begun falling in earnest and we pulled our hoods low, our chins tucked to our chests to fend it off as Ty held the door for us and we ducked out of the bar. I climbed into the van and stuck the key in the ignition, offering a prayer of thanks to the automotive gods when the engine started without much protest. A salt truck rushed past the parking lot, kicking up a spray of slush, its yellow roof light swirling, and I backed out of my parking space and eased onto the road, following behind it.
“What did you think?” Vero asked.
“You spent as much time with them as I did.”
“Maybe. But your conversation with Joey felt a little on the nose.”
The mention of it drew a chill out of me. Joey had been the first cop to show up tonight. Was that a coincidence, or was he just being thorough, careful not to miss any critical bits of conversations, same as we had been? And there had been all those perfectly vague references he’d made about odd jobs being hard to find after the holidays, how they were a little lean this year … you know how it is, right?