“I don’t do calligraphy.”
Hank snorted. “You do now. Every page, a different style, a different way. Pen, crayon, whatever. Take your time with each page. Make it look like art.”
The detective slowly brought the notebook to his side. “And this will help me sleep?”
Hank shrugged. “Eventually. At least it did for me.”
“How soon?”
Hank grinned. “About three notebooks worth.” The guy’s eyes widened in horror, but Hank didn’t let him interrupt. “Unless you want Dr. Lu here to prescribe—”
“No pills. Not with the city like this.” His tone was firm, his expression as closed down as any Cecilia had seen.
“Then start writing,” Hank said. And then his words softened. “Ryan, there really is no easy way.”
The detective answered with a grim shrug. “I don’t care about easy. I just want it to work.”
Hank nodded. “The greatest meditation—”
“Is a mind that lets go. Got it.” And it looked like he did or that he would at least try it. Then he abruptly pulled on a carefree grin. “Okay, bossman,” he said to Simon. “Let’s go…” His words slowed, and his shoulders drooped before his jaw immediately clamped shut.
Right. They were going to notify the kid’s family. Not an easy task and certainly not one for a man already haunted by something. Simon obviously understood because he shook his head.
“I got this. You go—”
The detective held up his hand. “You’re new, so I’m going to explain something. I know the family. I know the Griz. It’s disrespectful to them for you to do this without me.” Cecilia heard the weight of his words hit the room. They were going to notify a family of a loss. Simon was the leader of the Griz, but it was Detective Kennedy who carried the full weight of the clan. At least in this. And her heart went out to him.
What other burdens was he carrying? And which ones kept him awake at night?
She wanted to ask, but knew that now wasn’t the time. Especially as Alyssa touched her arm then passed her a handwritten note with a phone number and email address on it. “I know things are happening fast, and you’re going to need to catch up.”
Understatement of the century.
“Ask me any questions you have. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll connect you with someone who does.”
“Thank you,” Cecilia said, her gaze shifting away from Detective Kennedy. She didn’t have the brain space to sort through the mystery of a haunted cop. She had to focus on the medical problems. At least that was her plan until Alyssa waggled her eyebrows at her. “And don’t worry about this bonding thing. It’s not all gloom and doom, like they think.” She shot Simon a significant look. “At least it’s worked out pretty well for me.”
No way to answer that, not when every cell of her body flushed with heat as she abruptly became hyperaware of Hank’s presence at her side. While she suffered a hot flash of embarrassment, Alyssa was all business as she grabbed Hank’s arm.
“Don’t forget to check in. We need you slept and recovered ASAP.”
He gave her a clipped nod.
Then she flicked his bare chest with her finger. “And get a shirt on. You look like a cover model prancing around like that.”
“My shirt is covered in blood,” he growled. “I don’t have—”
Alyssa spoke up, her voice pitched to the room. “Anybody got a spare shirt?”
Every single one of the shifters—wolves included—raised their hand.
“Someone loan one to Fabio here, will you?” Then she gave them a jaunty wave before following Simon and Detective Kennedy out the door.
