NINE
As soon as I walked back into the ballroom, it was clear Charlie had been looking for me. His eyes were heavy from working a full shift, and I considered that he’d likely been looking forward to a late night with me as much as I’d been looking forward to it with him. He could be warm and caring, I reminded myself, thinking of the last time he’d come to visit me in New York and we’d driven out to Buttermilk Falls State Park in Ithaca before walking to a local cemetery for a picnic.
“This is your idea of romantic, huh?” Charlie had asked, as I’d spread a blanket in the walkway between two rows of graves.
“Momma wrote me one letter a month for the first year after she died, all of them asking me to go out and do something. One of them said that Lacy and I should picnic in a graveyard, and we had a great time.”
He’d lifted his soda can and bumped it against mine. “Cheers to living, I guess.”
We’d eaten cheese and crackers and an assortment of fruit, stopping every now and then to steal a kiss. Afterward, we’d packed up everything and wandered through the headstones, pointing out our favorite epitaphs that the dead had left behind.
At the end of the weekend, when Charlie had stood at the door to my apartment waiting for an Uber back to the airport, he’d studied my face as if trying to memorize the turn of my lips, the bridge of my nose.
“What are you looking at?” I’d teased, tucking my head into his neck.
He’d nudged me away so he could properly look into my eyes, and my stomach had somersaulted.
“You,” Charlie had said simply. “I’m looking at you.”
Now, I was so confused by Charlie’s aloofness. I supposed I should chalk it up to him simply doing his job. But did he have to do it without any compassion? Without so much as a hand on my shoulder? A steadying look into my eyes?
Charlie spoke now, his flat voice bringing me back. “Because you and Mina Davis attempted CPR, I’ll need an official statement from both of you.”
I inhaled and exhaled, trying to stay calm rather than exploding at him. “So, we’re now suspects because we tried to help?”
He didn’t answer my question, saying instead, “I’ve spoken with Lacy, Anton, Presley, and Joe. It’s your turn now.”
I glared at him.
Charlie closed his eyes for half a second too long. “Look, it will just take ten minutes, and one of my officers has to be with us because of our… relationship. If you don’t want me there at all while you give your statement, then I’ll understand.”
“Fine.”
I lagged several yards behind as he led me through the ballroom doors, past the Color Gallery where the overhead lights blared against the empty cases, through the carved wooden library doors, past the rows of shelves, and into an alcove that turned into a short hallway that led to a small gallery filled with portraits and art, as well as a couple of sitting areas.
The windows were stained glass, featuring tulips running in a horizontal line at eye level. The glass petals were a deep red, and the rest of the room was charcoal from floor to ceiling. With the satin curtains drawn, no moonlight streamed in. Directly across from the couch hung the focal point of the room: a giant Finch family portrait with an expressionless Savilla and staid Glenda Finch, Savilla’s stepmother, both seated. Mr. Finch towered behind them, both of his hands on his daughter’s shoulders.
As I sat, I thought about saying something that I hoped would be charming, to get me and the sheriff back on more solid footing despite the circumstances:Come here often?Or perhaps one of the cheesy pickup lines I’d seen someone post recently:Is it autumn? Cause I think I’mfalling for you.Before I could showcase my witticisms though, Charlie gestured for me to take a seat, and like magic, the deputy appeared with Mina right behind her.
Charlie smiled at his second-in-command in a way I didn’t like, and my heart felt like it might flutter out of my chest, either from nerves or longing for him to smile at me that way again.
“Thanks for joining us, Deputy Wright,” Charlie started.
Lovely. Her name was literally Ms. Wright.
As soon as the thought entered my mind, I hated that I’d gone there. I was not someone who viewed other women as competition. Momma and Aunt DeeDee had taught me by example that it’s much better to live in a kind of sisterhood with other women than to fight against them. And even if Deputy Wright was competition, what would we be vying for? Charlie was not a prize to be won. He was flesh and bone, a man who was looking at me strangely as my eyes finally moved away from the woman in uniform.
The deputy gave a nod of acknowledgement and extended a hand to me. “Are youtheDakota Green? I’ve seen you a couple of times, but I don’t think we’ve officially met.”
I nodded, words caught in the back of my throat.
“Sheriff Strong has asked me to take the lead in our conversation tonight,” the deputy said, her eyes flitting from him to us. “Now that you’re both here, I’d like to thank you for trying to resuscitate Mr. Brinkley.” Deputy Wright’s expression was full of understanding and compassion. “It can be harrowing to attempt medical aid, especially when it’s unsuccessful. The end result does not diminish the fact that you were the only two people who actively tried to save him before the medics arrived. You should be proud of your efforts.”
My eyes began to fill at the words, and I felt silly as I quickly wiped them. It would take some time to be able to process the fact that I hadn’t been able to save someone when it really counted, and the acknowledgement that I’d tried meant more than I could say.
“Can I get the spelling of both of your names?”
I gave her mine and Mina followed. “M-I-N-A, D-A-V-I-S.”
