Page 115 of Dancing in the Dark

“Oopsie.”

She giggles. “He got serious grumbly at me one time, but that was cos I turned the stove on when I wasn’t s’posed to, and then I didn’t know how to turn it off. And then I didn’t tell him, cos I was scared I’d get in trouble.”

“Oh dear. I can see why he’d be seriously grumbly about that.” Leaving her bag and coming around the counter, I perch on the very edge of my couch. “Sometimes grown-ups have to be serious grumbly even to little kids we love, because that kid did something dangerous. Have you turned the stove on ever since?”

She whips her head from side to side. “Nuh uh. Never.”

“Perfect.” I hold my hands out, and as she wanders closer, I set them on her hips and search her eyes. “Daddy got seriously grumbly because he was worried, and you learned your lesson. So it all worked out.”

“Yep!” She hooks a thumb toward the television. “He looks serious grumbly there, huh? I wonder what happened.”

I shrug. “He has a very important job, and sometimes, it can get kinda stressful when it’s not going the way he wants it to. But listen…” I flash a bright smile. “I have somewhere I’d like to take you tonight. Somewhere special.”

Her eyes light up. “Really? Where?”

“Somewhere secret.” I tap the tip of her nose. “Somewhere you’re never allowed to go unless you have a grown-up with you. Do you understand?”

She swings her head up and down. “Cos it’s dangerous?”

“It definitely could be dangerous, so you can’t go for that reason. But also, because it’s just not a place little kids should go on their own. If you tried, you probably wouldn’t be let in, anyway. And then someone would call your dad, and he might use his serious grumbly voice to tell you not to go there again.”

She practically vibrates straight off the floor as anticipation buzzes through her bloodstream. “I promise not to go there all by myself, Fifi! Swear wif my whole heart.” She places her hand between us, her pinky extended in offering. “Triple swear. But also, if it’s dangerous and kids aren’t allowed, how come you’re taking me?”

“Because it’s the best place in the entire city for this thing I want to show you.” I hook my pinky around hers and press a kiss to my thumb. “You’ve gotta kiss it to lock it in.”

“Oh!” She hurries forward, almost head-butting me in the process, and smacks a noisy mwah against the side of her hand. “Promised! Can we go now?”

“Hmm…” I peek toward my living room window and consider the sunlight still outside. “I think in thirty more minutes.” I tap a soft ringlet dangling near her jaw and grin. “Wanna have a snack, and I’ll put your hair up before we go?”

“A snack?” She rubs her belly and grins. “At almost dinnertime?”

“Uh-huh. And once we’re finished with our thing, we could go back to your place and have dinner for real. Then we’ll check in with Daddy and see if he’s almost ready to come home.”

“Will you sleep over at my apartment again?” Bright honey-colored eyes, exactly like Charlie’s, glow like liquid gold. “I like it when you sleep at my place. It’s fun.”

“Sure. I could pack a few things and toss them into Alfred’s car. Come on.” I tap her butt and send her scurrying toward the counter. “Do you have a favorite elastic you’d prefer to use in your hair? Or is it okay if I grab one of mine?”

“One of yours!” She scrambles onto a stool and sways precariously to the side, snatching an apple from my fruit bowl. “I like it when you brush my hair,” she purrs. “Sometimes it gets knotty and stings. But you’re always the most careful.”

“Maybe because when I was your age, and my mom brushed my hair, it hurt a lot.” I move to my fridge and take out a protein-enhanced chocolate milk I bought purely for her visits. “I used to cry when she brushed my hair, so I promised myself I would be very, very careful if I ever got to brush someone else’s.”

“You must’ve kissed your thumb then, huh?” She flops forward and lies across the counter, grinning like I’m already massaging her scalp. “You kept your promise, and now you get to brush my hair.” She takes a noisy bite of her apple, juice squirting through the gap in her teeth. “Can you tell me where we’re going? I get so excited waiting for surprises, I fink I might explode.”

“Soon.” I peel the straw off the side of the milk and stab it through the foil at the top. “Eat first. Then you should probably go to the bathroom. Then I have a different surprise for you first.”

“A different surprise? So I get two?”

“Uh huh. The before surprise. And the after surprise. Drink up.” I plop the carton by her hand and pray my surprises don’t become another lash across an already scarred heart. “You need to be nice and strong and ready for this. I’m about to change your life.”

“Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyy goshhhhhhhhhhh.” She practically vibrates straight off her chair. “I’m gonna explode!”

44

FLETCH

I stand in our war room and stare at the crime scene photos Archer and I tacked to the wall an entire week ago. Images of Johanna from the morning she was found. Images of her from her social media, posted mere hours before TOD. We even have her professional headshot, taken from the Slater and Datsun ‘meet our team’ website page.

Our timeline is complete. Our cause of death, not at all what we expected.