Still, the feeling in my stomach is borderline alarming.
Anton falls into step with me, keeping with my every stride and watching me like a hawk.
Before we can knock, the door opens. Nora Marshall stands in the frame, small and worn.
She flicks her eyes from my badge to my face. “Officer Johnson?” She looks at Anton. “And you are…?”
“Anton Easton, ma’am.” His tone is a shade of soft that makes me admire him even more. “I’m assisting.”
She furrows her brow, still staring at Anton. “Are you the Shadow Justice guy? I heard about what you did at Arthur’s cabin in the woods.”
His smile is kind. “Rumors travel fast.”
“Was it a rumor?” She tilts her head.
“Afraid not.”
She offers a sad smile and opens the door farther for us to enter. “Wish my Zoe’d had someone looking out for her like that…”
Her sadness seeps into my bones in a way I hadn’t expected. Maybe it’s pregnancy hormones, maybe it’s knowing that now, I, too, have a little girl to worry about…to wish and hope and pray for—a swell of emotion tightens my throat. I shove it down, but my temperature rises.
We follow her inside, and my abdomen cramps again. Zoe’s father, Rich, comes out from the kitchen with two mugs, steam floating off the tops. My God, they must have been thinking about us coming all morning. Fretting maybe.
Suddenly, I wonder if I’m emotionally ready for this. I underestimated how much it would shake me to sit across from the parents of a dead girl.
We sit in two chairs, and Nora arranges two coasters in front of us on a coffee table while Rich places two cups of coffee on them.
He glances down at my bump. “Sorry. I wasn’t aware. Do you want decaf?”
My heart hurts. These two people didn’t deserve to experience this. I’ve not even physically met my girl yet, and I’d be destroyed if she weren’t here.
I place my hand on my bump. “That’s such a nice offer, but don’t worry about me.” I glance at Anton. “You’d probably happily have two, right?”
He joins me in trying to put them at ease.
“Absolutely.” He nods kindly. “Good coffee never goes to waste when I’m around.”
Nora and Rich sit next to us on a loveseat couch.
The house is spotless. Too spotless. A hush clings to the living room, punctuated by Zoe’s face everywhere—framed smiles on every wall, every shelf. Her joy is so bright, it shines on something inside of me and makes it ache.
I open my notebook. “Thank you for agreeing to talk with us. I know this is difficult.”
Nora nods, her throat working. “We’ll do anything that helps. I’m so glad the case is still open. I thought it was closed.”
Guilt lingers in her expression—the ache of a parent wondering if they missed something.
“Mrs. Marshall, it’s still open because there have been some suspicious details yet to be clarified,” I say gently.
Rich and Nora share a look of relief as if they wanted the case open. I think to myself how willing they were to meet. The tidy house. The coffees. They wanted us here. They want to say more.
My pulse kicks up, and the uncomfortable tightening gathers low across my abdomen again. I just manage to keep my words steady. “Was Zoe involved with anyone?”
The sensation is sharp enough to change my voice into something that isn’t mine. I adjust my posture, work hard not to grab my stomach, but it’s enough to make me want to stand and move around. A small worry creeps in.
Anton’s eyes flick to me, searching, and he finds the strain I try to hide. His fist balls up on his thigh. There’s a question in his eyes and beneath it, a quiet offer.
Do you want me to take this?
