He stares into space and frowns. “If I had done a better job of connecting the dots, I could’ve prevented the shootings. Alisha worked in her brother’s auto repair shop for years. I was so sure our suspect was male. I never even considered her.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. The State Police missed it, too.”
Al makes me recount my ordeal in the woods a couple times more. When he’s content with my consistency, he allows the State Police to question me with one of our lawyers present.
After, I close my eyes and sleep. When I wake, Danni is there with my dinner. Her face is covered with angry scratches, dark circles line her pretty eyes, and no woman has ever looked more beautiful.
“How are you feeling?” She swings the table over my bed, opens my milk, and inserts a straw like I’m some kind of invalid.
“Like I got shot.” At my request, they cut off my painkillers and my thigh throbs like a mother fucker.
She sits down beside me and as she wrings her hands, I brace for bad news.
“I need to go back home.” Her lashes lift off her cheek and she glances through them.
“Why?” My heart stops beating. “I thought we were good.”
She smiles. “We are good.”
“Then why?”
“Because I realized I deserve more than good.” She nibbles her chapped lower lip.
Wearemore but I won’t beg her to stay. She needs to want to be with me.
“So, you’re going back to live in the city?”Without me?
“My life is there.” Her frown deepens and she presses her palms into her eyes. Either she has a headache or she’s hiding tears. I can’t tell which.
“Christmas is only a few weeks away.” She stands, kisses my cheek, and it’s not until her footsteps fade away do I realize I’m crying.
What the hell did I do wrong?
Chapter 23
Danni
I gave it one last chance and he didn’t ask me to stay. Just as I thought, I’m good enough for awesome sex but nothing more. Maybe I’m old fashioned but if a guy wants you to stick around, he’ll say so. It’s simple enough.
I’m not giving up, I’ll be back at Christmas, but my heart is heavy as I say goodbye. Perhaps murder and mayhem are not the best way to start a lifetime together.
With my car packed for home, I drive out of the hospital’s lot, and huge tears drip down my face. The sadness isn’t the sobbing kind. It creates a huge gaping void, big enough to get lost in.
The alternative is to work myself into oblivion. In the virtual world, I have complete control. Like math, things add up. If this and that are true, go here. Otherwise, go there. That’s the pure beauty of software. Code is finite, concrete, and neat. Love is messy and unreliable. Not only that, it hurts.
In the car, I conference my SOS group and fill them in on the last few days. “You’d think people would be happy I saved their beloved Deputy Dog. Instead, I get hate mail for shooting Alisha.”
“How many, Nancy Drew. Be truthful.” Agatha’s attitude reminds me of a pre-school teacher.
“One.” I grimace at my petulant tone.
“And how many called to congratulate you?”
“I’m not sure. My sister took most of those calls.” I mute my mic for a moment so I can curse.
“Sounds to me like someone is running away.” Spade chuckles but I don’t see the humor and need to set them straight.
“Hey. My personal life is not up for debate. My sole reason for calling is to let you know the outcome of Stacy’s murder.” Great, now I sound like a real jerk.
