“Come away from the door and get warm,” I suggest, pulling him toward the center of the house with my free hand. I drop his coat on the kitchen table before ushering him to the great room.
“Hey, Mr. West,” Ava calls, hanging over the back of the couch, waving a single hand through the air.
He waves back. “Hi, Ava.” He smiles warmly. “You know, youcancall me Nick.”
Her teeth press together in a smile that would look deranged on anyone but her.
“Would you like something to eat? Drink?” Ava asks, and I make a face that suggests she can be quiet now and allow me to take the reins. “I’m just going to watch this,” she says, motioning over her shoulder and smirking before turning back toward the TV. They’re on to yet another Christmas-inspired romance.
Nick turns to me, grinning. “Is this what you ladies have been up to all night?”
I shrug. “More or less.” I glance at the screen in time to see a woman stranded in a snowstorm, and it’s not hard to deduce that the hero is about to arrive.
“Would you like something to eat?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“Thank you, but no. I ate at the station. Captain had food delivered.”
“That was nice of him,” I say, feeling the awkwardness of small talk in front of my friends and Ava.
They may be facing forward, but I know without a doubt their ears are homed in on everything happening behind them.
“Do you wanna go somewhere private? To discuss Mrs. Fields?” I quickly add, not wanting Ava to think I’m suggesting something else entirely.
She’s old enough to know my relationship with Nick isn’t simply platonic. We had a conversation when she got home for break about the status of my feelings for Nick. I explained that it was new, and might not amount to anything, but we were attempting to go on a date at some point.
To my relief, she was supportive. She even seemed a bit giddy about it.
“Sure,” he says, and we make our way to the front room. “I like the new furniture.”
I glance around the room that’s recently received a major upgrade. Gone are the gaudy hand-me-down floral couch and outdated chairs. With fresh paint and new curtains, the room is quickly becoming a favorite morning spot for me. It’s where I like to sit and enjoy my coffee.
“Thank you. Me too,” I say.
He takes a seat, with a groan.
“Long day?” I chuckle.
He grunts. “Long month.” He sighs and then continues, “I knew this case was going to be a bi—” He stops mid-sentence, face flushing. “Tough.”
“It’s been a real bitch, hasn’t it?” I chuckle, knowing that’s what he wanted to say. “I’m not easily offended by language.”
His chin dips, and a smile curves his lips up on both sides. “It has. A real bitch.” He shakes his head, chest shuddering. “Anyway, I knew it would be rough with all the moving pieces and players, but it’s turned into a nightmare.”
“Is it something you can talk about or…”
I leave my words hanging, looking for him to steer where this conversation goes. I don’t want to pry, because I know he can’t share everything. Considering my relationship to the suspect’s near-ex-wife, he likely feels the need to watch what he says. He can trust me, but this is still new.
“It’s boring stuff. Just a lot of red tape. Richard is an idiot, but his attorney is not. They’re going to do whatever they can to have his plea deal reversed.”
I sit up straight. “Can they do that?”
He inhales deeply. “Unfortunately, in this case, yes. Due to the timing of everything happening over the holidays, the judge hasn’t sentenced him.” Nick shifts, appearing uncomfortable. “Between you and me, I think Judge McKnight is dirty. He’s purposely stalled sentencing. He’s had more than enough time, and his reasons for not doing it are all bullshit.”
My eyes bulge, surprised Nick would admit that. To openly criticize the judge could be really bad for Nick. This is a small town, and accusations like that are often met with harsh reprimands. If not worse.
He trusts me.
Nick leans forward. “Alyssa, please keep everything I just said between me and you. I don’t want it getting out to…”
