Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Layla gives me a smile I can’t decipher, but it feels like a good one. “We should be friends. Do you have room in your life for another friend? Because you say all the right things at the right time.”
I chuckle. I asked if she had other kids, bringing up the memories of a lost child. I’d hardly call that right timing. Still, I feel the same. I feel a little understood. “Friends sounds good.”
She winks.
What’s with the winks? Maybe it’s payback for all the times I winked at Josie while hugging another girl.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“We found a body,” Rains says as soon as I step into my office.
I turn slowly. “Hers?” I whisper.
“Don’t know yet.”
I brush past him.
“You can breathe down their necks all you want, but it won’t expedite anything. Mosley, let them do their job. She was one of theirs. They’ll want to know just as quickly as you.”
“They let her go. She wasn’t one of theirs,” I mumble, but I doubt he hears me before I step into the elevator.
At the county medical examiner’s office, I flash my badge and make my way to the morgue. As soon as I see Dr. Cornwell in the hallway, he shakes his head.
“I don’t know yet. We’re waiting on dental records.”
It’s not her. I don’t know why I rushed down here. I knew it then, and I know it now. She left this life in a way that her body will never be found. Still, my foolish heart likes to torture me.
“Why do you need dental records?”
He frowns. “Are you really asking me that?”
“She had tattoos.”
“I’m aware. But the decedent doesn’t have skin or organs if you get the gist.”
I swallow a little bile.
It’s not her. It’s not her.
“How long will it take?”
He pushes through the door to the locker room, and I follow him. “As long as it takes.”
“You owe her this.”
He laughs while donning PPE. “She’d hate you pestering me, and you know it.”
“I hope you take a little responsibility for what happened. You took her life from her.”
“Here we go … I’m impressed it’s taken you this long to confront me, Detective. Had Dr. Watts been of sound mind, dealing with a subordinate who was experiencing what she was experiencing, she would have done the same thing I did. Josephine wasn’t just gifted; she took her job seriously. She was a professional and understood the need for rules and protocol. What happened to her was tragic, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault.”
“Is that how you sleep at night?”
He glances up at me. “It’s been nearly six months. I grieved her when I had to let her go and again when she went missing. I grieved her for the same reason you’re grieving her. We cared about her, and we couldn’t fix her.”
Fix her …
He rests his hand on my shoulder before opening the door. “She left her mark on the world, and it was a good one. Honor her by moving on and living a good life, Detective. It’s what she would have wanted.”
I swallow hard. She’s still so close to me. It’s a suffocating grief.
“Oh, the body is not hers,” Cornwell says.
I turn. “How do you know?”
“There’s a gold crown.”
“Then why didn’t you tell that to Rains?”
He shrugs. “I wanted to check in on you. Josephine would have wanted me to check in on you. Good news. You’re going to be fine.” He closes the door.
The following weekend, Reagan and I meet Layla and Nora for a Cubs game.
Dinner.
A pool party for the grand opening of their pool.
Coffee just with Layla early on a Wednesday morning before either of us has to be to work.
T-ball.
Movies.
More swimming.
Layla is the sister I never had. She’s not Josie, but she’s a good friend. And she makes good chocolate chip cookies. I’m not saying better than Savannah, but still … really good.
Everything feels easy when I’m with Layla. If I’m having a good day, she’s eager to hear all about it. But if I have a bad day, she’s ready with funny memes and long lists of how my life could be worse. I find myself comparing her to Josie, and that sometimes bothers me. Layla is just my friend. Josie was my everything. There is no comparison, so I don’t know why my brain insists on trying to make one.
“Can I be honest with you?” Layla swings the bat in the batting cage and misses.
“Elbow up,” I say. “Have you been lying to me?”
She chuckles. “Not exactly.” She tosses the bat aside and exits the cage.
“You’re not done.” I narrow my eyes.
“I am.” She sighs. “I hate baseball. And softball. Volleyball. Football. Basically anything that involves a ball. I danced in high school. But mostly, I sat in front of a huge computer and programmed weird stuff. I’m a geek. I like books. Art museums. And the ballet. I love the ballet.” She gives me a little cringe. “Can we still be friends?”