Jake frowned. “You just said you can’t really tell me anything about what’s going on, and now you want my help getting Rye to talk?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Wayne said, and he huffed out a frustrated breath as he ran a hand through his hair. “But do you think it might work?”
Rachel cleared her throat quietly. “I think it might be worth a try. If you’re up for it, Jake. I mean, you were able to convince him to let Sue check him over yesterday. Although I’m not sure...”
She glanced at Wayne, and he seemed to know where she was going.
“Yeah, Roscoe’s not going to agree to it,” Wayne finished for her, and she nodded.
“But maybe we should give it a try? See if Roscoe’ll agree. We could clear the room ’cept me or Pamela and Jake.” At Jake’s questioning look, Rachel clarified, “Pamela is one of the detectives the county sent over. She’s talking with Shirley right now. She’s real kind. Quiet, too. The, uh, opposite of Roscoe, I think.”
“Ah.”
Rachel continued. “And maybe, Jake, you can convince Ryan to try to answer my questions or Pamela’s. I wouldn’t expect him to talk to Craig or Roscoe. Ryan... reacts more fearfully to men.”
Wayne nodded. “I noticed that too. But he seems to trust you, Jake. What do you say? It’s at least worth a try? If Roscoe agrees. Unfortunately, he’s the one steering this ship, and I don’t have a whole lotta say.”
Jake’s hand absently rubbed his thigh as he stared down at the yellow notepad in front of him. His stomach couldn’t settle, especially as that last glimpse he’d had of Rye jumped back into his head. “I don’t know if Rye will listen to me,” he admitted, and he frowned as he looked up at Rachel and then back at Wayne. “And Iwon’tpush him. If he says no, he says no. But I’m willing togive it a try.”
Wayne nodded, and he and Rachel left the room. Wayne returned with the dark-haired man, Roscoe, a few minutes later. Up close, the man looked tired and much older than Jake had expected. His dark eyes were intense and fiery, but at the same time, he looked worn, exhausted, like he needed a coffee. Or a nap.
Using the chair to help him, Jake pushed himself to his feet. Then he grabbed his cane and took a step toward Wayne and Roscoe, offering out his hand.
“Mr. Wright, nice to meet you.” Roscoe reached out and shook Jake’s hand, his grip almost too firm.
Jake easily reciprocated. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Police Chief Harris hopes you might be able to get Ryan to talk to us.” It was a statement, not a question, but Jake nodded anyway.
“I don’t know, but I’d like to try.”
Roscoe frowned but then seemed to acquiesce, giving Wayne a short nod. “I need to talk to the mom anyway. Wayne, can I speak with her in here? Then Pamela can sit in with Mr. Wright and hopefully get answers from Ryan.”
After a few more short instructions, during which Roscoe showed he actually did care and apologized that he’d probably come off too harsh, Wayne led Jake out of the room. They paused for a moment outside the other office, and Wayne closed his eyes for a long second before glancing over to where Shirley sat near the back of the room, now alone.
With a small shake of his head, Wayne said in a low voice, “I’ll keep Roscoe busy until you all are done in there. Take your time.” He patted Jake lightly on the shoulder. “And thanks. I hope you’re able to help him.”
“I’ll do my best, but like I said, I won’t push him.”
“I know. And I expect that approach is just what he might need.” Wayne gave him a final nod and then left.
And Jake took a deep breath to steady himself before reaching out to open the door.
ThefirstthingJakenoticed when he walked into the office was that there was a ceiling fan on, and it was making a low hum with a sort of rhythmic click, like it wasn’t quite balanced right.
The second thing he noticed was that Rye was no longer sitting on the chair at the desk.
Rachel was right there, however, and she frowned up at Jake and tilted her head toward the back corner of the room as he stepped slowly inside. He looked in the direction she’d indicated, and his heart sank. At some point in the last ten minutes or so, Rye had moved from the chair over into the corner, and he sat there like he had so much of the time when he’d been at Jake’s house—cowering, his knees bent up and pulled into his chest, his head low and his shoulders tight.
Jake started to close the door behind himself but then paused. “Hey, Rye,” he said gently, and he left the door about halfway open and took a small step in Rye’s direction. “Hey, it’s me, Jake.”
Rye’s body seemed to tremble for a second, as though he were letting out a shaky breath or something, and then he lifted his chin just enough so he could look up at Jake. And god, his eyes...
Jake had seen so many emotions in Rye’s deep blue eyes over the last week, but now, they were laced with fear and confusion and uncertainty. The ache in Jake’s heart almost made it hard to breathe.
He smiled as softly as he could. “Can I come in and sit with you for a bit? Would that be okay?”
His stomach twisted as he waited for Rye to answer, but he knew he couldn’t move until Rye said it was okay. The younger man’s eyes darted to Rachel and the other woman, Pamela, who stood together near Wayne’s desk, then returned to Jake, the question almost as clear as if Rye had spoken it.
