“Thanks,” I told her. I portioned out my own plate and made one for Kat as well. She had a fourth plate next to the crock-pot.
“We can wait for Bree,” I said. Kat’s wife worked at the University of Michigan Hospital in Ann Arbor. With nearly an hour commute, she rarely made it for our weekly dinners. I missed her.
“She’s working a double today,” Kat said. “But then she’s got a week off starting tomorrow.”
“Good. She deserves it.”
I sat next to Will. He pushed his food around on his plate but seemed interested in it. He stabbed his fork into a carrot and ate it. I held my breath for a moment. Before I could ask him what he thought, he went for the meat.
“Good stuff,” I said, relieved. Kat’s cooking saved the day again. For about a solid year, Will would only eat her homemade spaghetti or macaroni and cheese. But my son was changing. Maturing.
He still had plenty of challenges, but handled his father’s absence far better than I could have hoped. Kat thought it had ultimately been a relief for him. So much had been up in the air with Jason for so many years. Now, Will and I had forged a life together. The two of us. With Kat and Bree and now Sam as the significant adults in his life.
My phone buzzed on the counter where I left it. I reached for it. It was a text from Gus.
“Better turn on the local news.”
“Crap,” I said. “Will, I know we say no screens at the table, but do you mind if I turn on the TV for a second?”
“Is it for work?”
“It’s a case that’s about to land on my desk,” I said.
Will perked up. He’d always taken an interest in my caseload. It worried me sometimes, but I couldn’t shield him from it. I grabbed the remote and clicked on the small TV we kept mounted on the wall.
“When there’s something I can share, I’ll share it!” Hojo stood in front of a bank of microphones in front of the courthouse. Sam stood beside him.
“Sheriff Cruz,” a reporter shouted. “When will Jamie Simmons be arrested? We understand Ellie Luke’s family is hiring their own attorney. That they are concerned another member of the family has been coerced into providing false evidence against Mr. Simmons.”
“What?” I shouted at the television. I picked up my phone and texted Gus back.
“Where is this coming from?”
“Who knows,” he said.
I watched Hojo’s face cycle through various shades of red, then pale white. He was sweating.
“He doesn’t look good up there,” Kat said.
“I don’t think I can watch,” I said, clicking off.
“Ellie Luke,” Kat said. “Is that who they said? Are they making an arrest in that case?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Who’s Ellie Luke?” Will asked.
“She was a college student,” I answered. “She was killed more than twenty years ago. There may be a break in the case. And I say may. None of this is ripe for the media yet.”
“Is he in over his head?” Kat asked. “Jordan.”
“Not yet,” I said. “But this thing is starting to get away from us. That’s not to leave this table.”
“Of course not,” Kat said.
“Ellie Luke,” Will said. I knew what he was doing. He would commit her name to memory and start searching the internet.
“Leave it,” I warned my son.
