Her eyes come back to me. As she answers, her voice gets softer. “No. Everyone loved him. There was talk of him receiving the Medal of Valor.”
“Were there any ill feelings in the department because of that?”
Her brows lower. “You don’t think any of them killed him, do you?”
“Just being thorough,” I placate as I hold up my hands. “I need to get the full picture, so I know where to look next.”
She shakes her head again. “None of his brothers at the fire station would do this. They’re a family.”
I nod, validating her reasoning. “I know, Jules. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s natural for resentment or jealousy to build. It doesn’t mean anyone there hurt Derek.”
Julie sips from her tea again as we hear the hinges on the front door squeak.
A voice hollers. “Julie?”
“In here,” Julie calls back.
A broad-shouldered man wearing navy blue cargo pants and a matching shirt steps into the room. His focus immediately goes to Julie. He crosses the distance between them in a few steps and sits next to her, grabbing her hand in condolence. “I’m so sorry, Jules. He was a good man. If you need anything, let us know.”
Julie smiles sadly. “Thanks, Tad.”
Jensen turns and acknowledges, “Walk.”
“Jensen,” I return.
“I don’t know how I’m going to tell the kids.” Julie stares down at the coffee table, but it’s obvious she isn’t focused on the natural pine wood in front of her. “I don’t know if they can handle losing another father.”
I sit up straight at hearing the new information. “Another?”
Jensen answers for her. “Julie’s first husband was KIA in Afghanistan.”
Derek, Julie, and their kids moved here about six years ago. I’ve never taken the time to get to know them better.
“That him?” I point to the pictures on the mantle above the fireplace.
“Yeah, that’s Jason,” Julie confirms.
I get up and move to get a closer look at the photo. Jason is wearing his army uniform, standing in front of a plain backdrop. Next to the photo is another of Jason and some other men dressed in fatigues. The entire mantle is covered in pictures of Jason and his medals. In the middle of it all sits a framed, folded flag.
It’s like a shrine to Julie’s dead husband.
Pivoting, I face Julie and Jensen again. My eyes roam the room, and I notice fewer and smaller photos of Derek.
“How long were you two married?” I inquire further.
“Three years. He was on his second tour when his unit was hit by an IED.”
“I’m sorry.” Trying to figure out how to frame my next question, I start, “Your children…”
Julie knows what I’m asking and answers without being offended. “Annie and Olivia are from my first marriage, but Derek is still their dad.”
“Of course,” I validate. “When did you meet Derek?”
Julie shrugs a shoulder. “Not long after Jason passed.” She lets out a defeated sigh and gets to her feet. Jensen stands with her. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to lie down for a bit before the girls get home from school.”
Jensen and I give our understanding. When we hear a door click shut upstairs, Jensen starts in with his own questions. “That was Derek, wasn’t it? The one burning in the field.”
“Jensen, I can’t?—”
