Threads of Suspicion(65)
She turned her head on her folded arms toward the man leaning against the doorjamb. She figured it had been two months since she’d last spent five consecutive days in this office. She was constantly surprised to find she hadn’t been relegated to a desk in the bullpen during one of her extended absences. “I haven’t. You looking for someone in particular?”
“Dad’s tied up on a call. This arson isn’t one of yours.”
She should have realized, given the fatalities, he would have been on the scene of the house fire. He’d probably already talked with Cole and the lead investigator. Mike cultivated good sources and used them to write solid news pieces. “No. It doesn’t look like the same guy.”
“I was heading to the cafeteria. There’s a stack of silver dollar pancakes calling your name.”
She gave a faint smile. “Thanks, but I need to get home.”
“In that case, I’ll give you a lift.”
She merely lifted an eyebrow.
“You arrived on scene via the state patrol, and I imagine your car is still in Ellis. Jenna Greenhill is coming along?”
She didn’t bother to be surprised that he’d taken the time to dig out which case she had elected. “It’s been a busy first week for the task force.”
“I can imagine. C’mon.” He reached in his pocket and swung his car keys in the air. “You’ll sleep much better in your own bed.”
He had the habit of mothering her at times when a case went sidewise on her. She’d found it irritating when they’d dated, but now it was more on the endearing side. He was a man who liked to take care of her, not unlike Rob. As much as she’d gone a different direction with their relationship, some core refrains remained.
She went with him. And when she fought sleep within minutes of settling in the passenger seat, she simply closed her eyes and let herself drift off. He knew where she lived, knew where to find the spare key, and her dogs liked him. With Michael she could turn off the world when it was necessary to do so. He knew too much about her job and the cases she was working for her to have continued dating him. But the friendship they still had was authentic and safe. And she was tired in a way that went down to her bones. A safe guy suited her just fine right now.
Evie thought about Michael as she drove a rental north Tuesday morning after cleaning up some urgent items on her desk. Last night he had awakened her in the passenger seat of his car, nudged her through her own front door, shared an enthusiastic hello with her dogs, and left her with a casual but well-meaning good-night. A good man. One she could regret losing, even though she’d been the one to bring the relationship to an end. She’d never figured out how to integrate dating a reporter and being a cop. Their work lives had overlapped in ways she hadn’t been able to deal with—almost worse than if he’d been another cop. She admired him even more for accepting that decision and neither walking out of her life for good, nor trying to bring her back. He’d chosen to remain a friend.
Dating him had taught her something about herself. Michael ran on short deadlines to deliver hard news, his life was always going to be about the case details, and hers was equally driven by the need to solve the real-life puzzle of it and bring justice. They fit together well and yet the very thing that fit them together was the reason it hadn’t worked as a relationship for the long term. She needed a distance from the job. They had tried limiting how much the case conversations were in their personal lives, and for a season that approach had worked. But to not talk about their days left them having voids in what they discussed, and to talk about the days spiraled naturally into trying to help each other out. . . . The reality of that pendulum dynamic swinging from not enough to too much had never found a way to settle in the middle. She’d made a difficult choice, and as a result, a great guy was now a friend rather than her husband. She didn’t regret the decision, but she ached every time she saw Michael, missing those good moments of her dating life with him.
A lot of good men had been in her life over the years, she mused, and Gabriel Thane was another one of those, but one with a different balance—or unbalance—to it. As sheriff of Carin County, Gabriel was mostly a cop doing “protect and serve,” very different from her life as a detective. Gabriel lived in the community, would likely serve it for decades, knew the families, and long after the crime was solved, a victim helped, the offender tried, Gabriel would be using what had happened to try to improve safety in the community. He was a solid guy, a good guy. But she hadn’t opened the door to the relationship that could have been there. She wasn’t a reporter’s wife, and she wasn’t a sheriff’s wife.