“We brought lunch and dinner. You go back to what you were doing. We’ll put the food in the refrigerator and let ourselves out. There’s enough chili, salad, and cornbread here to feed you, too. Nicole told us you were here.”
“Thank you.” Darius was touched that they’d thought of him. He didn’t say so, but he wasn’t going to eat food meant for Sasha.
He left them in the kitchen and walked back to the office, where he began to search once again for people who had commented more than once. It was a painstaking process that he would need to repeat across her social media accounts.
He was still working an hour and a half later when he heard Sasha moan. He glanced over his shoulder to find her awake and clutching her left side, her face contorted by pain. “Are you okay?”
She lowered the footrest. “I must have tried to roll onto my side.”
Darius stood, helped her to her feet. “Megs and Mitch dropped off chili, salad, and cornbread. The food is in the refrigerator.”
“Thank you.” She ran her good hand through her tangled hair, the mingled scents of lavender and vanilla teasing him. “Are you hungry?”
“I’ll keep working and head out a bit later to grab something.”
But talking about food made his stomach growl.
She looked up at him, a smile playing on her lips. “Don’t be silly. The Internet isn’t going anywhere. You need to eat, too, and this will be faster than ordering something from Knockers or going out.”
Darius couldn’t argue with that, so he followed her into the kitchen.
Sasha opened the fridge,where a red pot sat, its lid on. On the shelf below, she found a plastic container holding a salad and a large square of cornbread wrapped in plastic. She took out the cornbread and the salad one at a time then reached for the pot.
“Let me get that. It looks heavy.”
Sasha stepped aside, made room for Detective Silva, who took the pot by both handles and set it on her ceramic cooktop.
“Thanks.” She lifted the lid, sniffed. “Mitch’s chili. How’s the hunt going?”
While Detective Silva gave her an update, Sasha retrieved bowls, spoons, and plates for the salad and cornbread, which she stuck in the microwave for one minute. He helped, taking things from her hand and setting them on the table, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring the chili as it began to boil.
“How often do you read through comments on your posts?”
She set out butter for the cornbread. “I used to read them all, but as time has gone on, I’ve begun to avoid them. It’s not that I don’t care about my followers and fans, but the negative comments can mess with your head. To be kinder to myself, I decided to ignore them—or at least try.”
“Smart.” Detective Silva took her bowl, filled it with chili, and set it down on the table before her. “Arguing with them only feeds their fire. I’m convinced that the people who attack others online—the trolls, the incels—are just looking for attention. Deny them that, and you disincentivize them.”
“I need to remember that next time I’m tempted to reason with someone.” She sat, and he joined her. “Thanks for your help with lunch.”
“You just got out of the hospital.” He dug into his chili, his head nodding when he tasted it. “This is good.”
Sasha ate her salad first, the flavors of tomato and Italian dressing bright on her tongue. “Do you have a first name, Detective Silva?”
“It’s Darius.”
“Darius,” she repeated. “That’s unusual.”
“My father is a history professor. My brother’s names are Augustus and Maximillian.” The warmth in his eyes told her he loved his brothers. “I call them Gus and Max.”
“You’re all named after emperors. What do they call you?”
“Dare.”
“I like it. That’s a great name for a detective.” Especially one who seemed to be all edges. “Is this your first time coming to Scarlet Springs?”
He’d just taken a bite of cornbread and answered with a nod.
“What do you think of the town so far?”
