I bit my lip, remembering all too well because it was the same thing Momma always said to me when I was on the precipice of making decisions.
“‘Don’t do things to impress the kind of people who don’t give a fig about you.’”
Hearing my mother’s words on Charlie’s lips was like an anchor for my unmoored soul. I stared at the view out of the windshield, the blue haze over the mountains reminding me of their permanence in the middle of life’s uncertainties.
“I don’t like working with you,” I said, as I kept my eyes on the peaks and ridges in the distance.
Charlie let out a breath. “I see we’ve come to the brutally honest part of the conversation.”
“I’m not trying to be mean, but you’re kind of…”Jerky? Stubborn? No, I probably shouldn’t go there.“Except for a few minutes up there in your apartment… well, and last night… you’ve been kind of cold,” I said. “It’s, like, it’s not evenyou.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he admitted. “I can flip the work switch on really easily, but then it’s kind of hard for me to flip it back off.”
I thought of our months of long-distance chats and realized something for the first time. “When you call me at night, youalways wait at least an hour or two until your shift has ended. Is that why?”
“I guess so. It takes me time to decompress. This job is pretty stressful. Even when we don’t have a murder on our hands, someone is upset about something: a parking ticket or a domestic dispute. It varies day to day, but I’m not good at going in and out of work mode.” His eyes found mine. “I promise I’ll try to be better. But, Dakota, you’re good at this work. You found Mr. Finch’s murderer.”
It was true, and I’d enjoyed the problem-solving, especially the way it had let me use my medical knowledge.
“How about this? We can figure out the work part later, but for now…”—Charlie restarted the engine, putting the car back into gear—“you ready to finish this thing?”
I knew he meant the investigation, but the question resonated more deeply than that.
“Ready,” I said, as he pulled around the circular drive and let me out of the car.
TWENTY-SEVEN
When I entered the vestibule, Savilla was speaking with Mina—or perhaps comforting her.
“Everything all right?” I asked, as I approached them.
“Lee tried to leave, and the police wouldn’t let him. And then…” Mina wiped at her nose and tried to compose herself.
“He became violent, swung at one of the officers. They’ve put an ankle monitor on him and told him he absolutely cannot leave the estate,” Savilla continued.
“Do they actually think he’s a threat?” I asked, wondering if this was the reason that the deputy had been stalking our car. Charlie must’ve turned off his walkie-talkie, trusting her to handle things.
“I don’t think so,” Mina said, sniffling one last time. “He’s just a belligerent jerk who doesn’t know how to cooperate.” She looked between the two of us. “I swear, though, he is harmless.”
I wasn’t sure that was the right word for what I’d seen of him with her in the gardens in the early hours, and hearing about his behavior now with an officer of the law wasn’t helping his case.
“I get it,” Mina said, sliding into a wingback chair. “He wants to go home and see his family. Our flight was supposed to leave tonight.”
“How long does the sheriff want everyone to stay near Aubergine?”
“No idea.” Mina looked up at me and shrugged. “Thankfully, I can go stay with Gram. I told Lee he was welcome too, but he wasn’t hearing it.” She let her head fall in her hands. “Nothing is… right.”
I knew the sentiment, one I’d felt often when Momma had been in the later stages of her illness. Whether it was a long line at the pharmacy, traffic on the way to the hospital, the lack of a parking spot—it all felt too hard when already anticipating the coming loss staring me in the face every second of every day.
I touched her shoulder, and Savilla put a hand on her other side.
Mina attempted a smile. “At least Gram is getting out of the hospital. The car is bringing her here.”
“To the estate?” I asked, hopeful. “That’s good, right?”
“She does seem happy when she’s here, always reminisces about the year she won. Even though she complained about how much had changed, every time I saw her on that judges’ dais, I could tell she was in her element. She taught me so much.” Mina stared out the window at the mountain peaks. “Aubergine, this house – it’s comforting to her.”
I could tell that Mina was seeing the past, present, and future colliding. The shadow of imminent loss hung over her.
