The dent he’d made in her fortress of solitude was long gone. Patched up and smoothed over as if he’d never even scratched the surface. Her walls were stronger now for having been weakened and repaired, like a broken bone that had knitted back together, especially since she had something besides herself to guard and protect. It wasn’t just emotional now, he had no doubt she would physically put herself in front of those kids. Anything he said or did at this point would be viewed withsuspicion.
He couldn’t even blame her. He’d probably do the same in herposition.
“Fuck.”
Chris flinched and locked his phone, placing it facedown on his desk as if he were a teenager whose mom had caught him looking at his dad’s pornmagazines.
Phil was leaned back in his chair, head resting on the back, digging the heels of his hands into hiseyes.
“What?” Chrisasked.
His partner dropped his hands. “Talking to Sarah Perry isn’t going to be anoption.”
Dread uncoiled in Chris’s belly, an evil and insidious snake poised to strike at the slightest provocation. He knew the answer, but asked anyway. “Why?”
“Sarah Perry passed away early thismorning.”
Chapter 7
Under a low,heavy blanket of dark and rolling clouds, Chris wove through the headstones toward the group of people clustered around the casket and joined Jase and Bree toward the back of thecrowd.
“Thank you for coming,” Bree said. She squeezed his arm and kissed him on thecheek.
“I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, all things considered.” He hadn’t attended the memorial service. That felt like overstepping his bounds. He’d only agreed to the funeral because Bree had asked him toattend.
“Of course it’s the right thing. You’re still herfriend.”
Was he though? Denise had made it pretty clear she didn’t want anything else to do with him. While she hadn’t said the wordsstay away, she definitely gave afuck offvibe.
The minister opened the funeral with a prayer and the low murmurs ceased. He zeroed in on Denise, seated in the front row reserved for family. Kaden sat on her lap, his face buried in her shoulder. And older woman to the left held Kimber and the man next to her rubbed the little girl’s back. Her parents, judging by the resemblance. She had her mother’s bone structure and her father’s eyes. They were a handsome couple, so it was no wonder Denise was beautiful—even with the tension lines around her eyes andmouth.
He was surprised Sprocket wasn’t pawing at her. Shifting to see the ground at her feet, he didn’t find the dog. He leaned closer to Bree. “Where’sSprocket?”
Her mouth pinched tight. “Sarah’s best friend thought a dog at a funeral would be undignified,” shewhispered.
“And Denise went along withthat?”
Bree gave him an enigmatic look, then turned back to the service. “She’s trying this new thing where she doesn’t tell people to fuckoff.”
He blinked, trying to get his head around that scenario. “How’s that working sofar?”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t cracked amolar.”
Looking back at Denise, he watched the muscles at the corner of her jaw clench and unclench. She’d locked herself down tight. He had a sneaking suspicion she was doing it for thekids.
Her gaze found his, her eyes bright and shiny. She blinked and one errant tear fell to her cheek. She brushed it away angrily and looked back at thecasket.
If he could have punched himself in the face right then, he would have. Fuck, he was an asshole. His determination to get back in her good graces was selfish and putting more stress on her when it was the last thing heneeded.
The lead weight of defeat settled over him. He had to back off and give her the space she needed to take care of her family without any unnecessary distractions. Like him and questioning his motives. Between taking off without a word, the current investigation, and Sarah’s death, he’d lost any chance he’d ever had with her. Maybe one day they could be friends and he’d be able to look at her without thinking he’d lost something irreplaceable, but it wasn’t going to betoday.
* * *
Denise’s facehurt from keeping the fake, sympathetic smile in place. There were too many people in her—Sarah’s living room. Extended family, friends of the family, Sarah’s friends and coworkers. Hell, even some of her former students and parents had come to the funeral and now the wake. The press of bodies was as stifling as the humidity from the early season storm brewing outside and an enormous pressure filled herchest.
Sarah was loved, there was no doubt about that, which made her death that much more unfair. And made Denise that much angrier. She was close to her limit and if one more person asked her how she was holding up, or told her she was a saint for taking in the poor orphaned children of her dead cousin, she might throat punch them. Sprocket pawed at her foot and leaned harder against her, causing her to shift her weight over half a step. She reached down and absentmindedly scratched her dog’s ear, fighting to keep her breathing even andsteady.
“Hey.” Bree held out a glass of sparklingwater.
