Bad Behavior(139)

I couldn't smile. I knew if I'd tried, I'd definitely cry.

He put an arm around me. He reminded me of Terrell a little bit-the way he knew what to do even if I didn't say a word. "It'll work out. And if it doesn't, give me a call and I'll have you a job starting Monday morning. I know plenty of attorneys who could use a smart associate like you. Trust me."

"Thanks." I sniffed and wiped the two tears that had escaped.

"Chin up. We'll talk soon, okay?"

I nodded and met his kind eyes again. "Thanks."

"All right. Next week. I'm buying you lunch. Mark it on your calendar. Tuesday, I'll pick you up wherever you are-at home in pj's or kicking ass in court. This badge right here"-he tapped his chest-"gives me the authority to cuff you and take you to the lunch joint of your choosing."

He got a smile out of me with that.

"Should have known you'd go for the cuffs. Chicks always do. Okay, I have to go, but next week."

"Okay. I'm in."

"Good. See you then."

"Yes." I nodded, the sadness fading in the light of his friendly overture.

He strolled away, and I pulled my phone from my bag. I'd missed a couple of texts from Wash asking me how it went. I ignored them. I tried to put my phone back in the side pocket of my bag, but I juggled it, and it hit the floor.

A man leaned down and scooped it up before taking my hand. I looked up into his face.



       
         
       
        

"Luke? What are you doing here?"

His eyes were red. I hoped he didn't notice mine were, too. "I just had to see him." He looked far more disheveled than usual, wearing a baseball cap, a plain white T-shirt, and jeans. His clothes were rumpled, as if he'd slept in them.

"I don't think you want to do that. You need to go home and rest." I tried to take his elbow and lead him away.

"No, please. It's the only way I can get closure."

I considered his request. It would be a shock to him, no doubt, but maybe if he saw his brother, he could move on like he'd said. He was no good to his family like this, and I hated to see him in so much pain.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes. Please, Caroline."

I ignored my misgivings and led him back down the hallway. He kept close to my elbow.

"He's in here. But it's not pretty. I don't want you to regret this."

"He's my flesh and blood. I have to see him one last time." He pushed through the swinging doors and walked to the sheet-covered body in the center of the room.

"I'll give you some privacy." I started to back away.

"No, please don't." His plea cut my already-shredded heart.

"Okay." I eased closer to him.

He reached for the edge of the sheet with a trembling hand and pulled it down. Tyler's face became visible inch by inch as the fabric fell back. Luke gasped and wrapped his arm around my waist.

"Are you okay?" I looked up at his light blue eyes.

He replaced the sheet quickly. "Do they . . . do they know anything yet? About what happened?" He was so quiet I barely heard him.

"Not yet, but they'll catch him. The time of death proves it's not Rowan, at least. So there's someone else out there. I have my eye on a suspect that lived at the same boardinghouse as Tyler and Rowan. It could be him, but even if it's not, it's only a matter of time before the killer is caught. Wash and I won't stop until Rowan is exonerated." The lie of the statement hit me only after the words left my mouth. I wouldn't be on this case anymore once I put in my notice. I wouldn't be working for Rowan or helping find Luke's brother's killer. I'd be giving up. But it was either that or wait for the boot.

"Want to go somewhere for some coffee?" Luke offered. "Not to pry, but it looks like you might need it, and I definitely do."

"That would be great, actually."

"I know a nice spot where we can talk." He took his cap off and scratched his head, his salt-and-pepper hair sticking up every which way. He'd always been so collected at his office. Now, Tyler's death had destroyed Luke's quiet confidence, and I hoped he would be able to recover. 

We left the hospital and headed for our separate cars, after agreeing to meet up at a coffee shop in the Garden District. Maybe some coffee and a chat would help him recover from the shock and help me clear my head enough to decide what to do after Palmer & Granade.

I made a halfhearted attempt to grab my phone and check for messages, but it must have sunk to the bottom of my bag. I didn't see it and didn't want to be confronted with any texts or calls from Wash anyway.