When he walked into the living room carrying a tray, Grace was curled up on the couch with a movie cued up to the opening credits, a book in her lap. He recognized one from the library, a retrospective on bridges and how they were engineered. “What did you settle on for a movie?” he asked as he put the tray on the coffee table.
“American Sniper.”
“A guy movie? A war movie?”
“It’s a lot like Will’s experience, isn’t it?”
“He refuses to watch it with me, though he’s got a copy of the film. From the little he’s said, I think his experience was more IEDs and exploding mortar rounds than sniper fire, though I’ve seen that thousand-yard stare at times when he’s lost in a memory. Why this one?”
“Maybe a reminder my days aren’t so bad now. No one’s shooting at me.”
“I suppose it’s all relative.” He handed her two aspirin and a cup of tea. “Take these if you haven’t already had something for the headache.”
“I haven’t.” She swallowed the aspirin, sipped the tea. She looked with mild interest at the tray he set on the table. “What are we having?”
“Chicken salad with grapes and pecans, orange slices, and some kind of white soft cheese on crackers. The cashews are if you don’t like the other choices. If you give this a try, I’ll fix popcorn for the movie.”
“Sounds like a bribe to me.” But she picked up a plate, served herself a small helping of the salad.
He added two logs to the fire, stoked it back to life. He dimmed the lights for the movie and to better enjoy the fireplace. He dropped a box of tissues on the table in case she needed them and took a seat beside her. “That headache is killing you,” he mentioned kindly, looking into her face.
She rubbed her forehead. “Yeah. I hope the aspirin kicks in soon.”
“What were you talking with Ann about that made you cry?”
She shook her head. Okay. Not going there tonight. He considered her movie choice. “You sure you wouldn’t want something else, like maybe Captain America in a merely fictional war?”
“Nope, this one.”
“Okay, let’s start the movie,” he said, picking up his plate. “It’s going to be the oddest date I’ve ever had.”
She picked up the remote. “It’s not a date.”
He took a bite of the chicken salad, then said, “I invited you over, and you came. You’re drinking my tea, eating my food, and hogging the most comfortable pillows on the couch. What else is needed?”
“A date doesn’t feel sorry for me.”
“Good point.” He snagged one of the few pillows she wasn’t using, propped his feet on the table. He caught her glance. “We’ll try this again tomorrow night. Maybe I won’t be feeling sorry for you then.”
She smiled slightly. “Okay.”
“Mom swears my chicken salad is as good as hers.”
“You made it?”
“I’m a surprisingly good cook, and not just for things that are headed to my grill.”
He smiled when she went back for another helping a few minutes later. He’d get popcorn in her tonight, maybe a piece of pie. She needed the carbs.
She was silently crying again. Josh leaned over to pull the box of tissues closer to her reach, leaned his head back against the couch cushion. She had so much to be sad about, and the tears surfaced whenever she gave herself a moment to think. It was probably as good a movie to cry through as any. War was depressing, and his brother had volunteered for six years. Josh could appreciate Will’s sacrifice while accepting his own choice not to volunteer. He himself didn’t carry around such bad memories, something he was grateful for. He’d lived a mostly stress-free life, and he didn’t apologize for it. But he could appreciate the fact others didn’t get that luxury. Grace, most of all…
When he realized Grace wasn’t going to stop crying, he reached for her hand, held it lightly in case it made her at all uncomfortable. But she left it there. He could provide food, hold her hand, and think up enough “non-dates” that she might eventually get through an evening without crying. And if his heart didn’t break sometime during the process, that would be a good thing too. He was close to thinking he’d rather take a bullet than watch her in pain like this.
“Josh?”
He tipped his head her way. “Yeah?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I don’t know.”
“You are a strangely honest man.”
“One of my many quirky and likable characteristics.”
“Seriously, Josh. Thank you.”
He tightened his hand around hers. “I am glad to have you back here, Grace, no matter the circumstances. Never doubt that.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
He turned back to the movie so she wouldn’t see his own tears. She had such sad eyes. She had been the best part of his childhood, yet what he’d had was a mirage of the truth, and his heart ached tonight at the realization.
Evie Blackwell
Evie waited until Josh and Grace had disappeared down the road, until the truck’s engine was a faint echo and the night insects were humming again, before she said, “Ann, I’m so sorry about your day. Even sorrier it was Grace’s too. If that woman doesn’t splinter into pieces in the next few weeks, I’ll be stunned.”
“I’m afraid I see the same thing. I’ll call her doctor tomorrow, get Rachel down here for the weekend.”
It was getting colder, but the fire was throwing out enough heat to make it tolerable. “You ever have a more difficult time than today?” Evie asked, curious.
“The day the nation’s VP was nearly killed would be right up there. But this one rips my insides more.”
“Is she ever going to be okay?”
“Eventually,” Ann replied, leaning forward to toss another log onto the fire. “She’s got friends around her who won’t let it be otherwise. I’ve known several survivors-Ruth Bazoni, Shannon Bliss are two. It will be even harder for Grace, though, because it was a family member.”
“Yeah.” Evie sighed. “Some days I hate being a cop, and yet at the same time I’m grateful I can stop guys like this when we can find them.”
“Key point being ‘when we can find them.’ We mostly find their victims first… and too often only the victim.”
“You should call Paul.”
“He’s on his way-he’ll be at the airport in about an hour. Our state attorney general needed some of his time, so Paul flew south with him. They’ll drop him off at the airport here, then fly the AG on to Springfield.”
“Good.”
“Our original plans were to fly down together Friday and spend the weekend here, so he’s just moved it forward a few days. And you’re right-I do need him.”
Evie turned to better see Ann. “You like being married, don’t you?”
Ann considered the question for a moment. Evie sat up, arms across her knees. Ann finally answered, “I wouldn’t trade it for not being married.”
Evie found that response revealing. Ann had been single into her forties. Evie still had a few more years before she’d be at that point. She didn’t feel the emotions, the burden, of this case like Ann did, but Evie knew if she stayed in the job long enough, there were going to be situations that would be just as personal for her. There would be days she, too, needed someone to lean on. She just wasn’t sure if Rob Turney was that guy.
She lay back on the blanket, propped her feet up on the log again. It had been a truly miserable day. Guys like Grace’s uncle corrupted an entire community. This would echo through the town for years. People would wonder who else the man might have hurt. Evie was glad she wouldn’t be living in Carin. Leaks about the case would happen, bits would be put together, and the truth would filter out. If it was proved that Kevin Arnett had abducted and killed the Dayton girl, speculations about Grace would naturally surface as a result. How would Gabriel handle those questions? Evie thought her job was hard, but his was brutal by comparison.