Threads of Suspicion(74)

In some ways the case had turned boring—it was simply elimination work now, going name by name, the inevitable middle-of-the-case syndrome. Hours would be spent on it, but the answer would appear out of that effort. Evie had faith in the process, even if she couldn’t predict how long it would take. She sighed and set aside the notepad.

She wrapped her arms around one of the pillows she’d tossed onto the couch. Quit ducking it, Evie, she told herself. Now’s the time to at least get started on David’s assignment.

She reached for a new pad, turned halfway into it to provide privacy from casual glances at the top page. She divided the blank page into two columns, numbered the lines one through twenty, being optimistic on the number of entries. On the left side, she wrote Stay Friends, and on the right, Get Married. And then she let herself think about Rob Turney.

She began with the right column, Get Married:

1. He loves me

2. He’s a good guy

3. I trust him

4. He wants to marry me—his decision is made

5. Options to explore for a job change that would eliminate most of my travel—move to the local PD, work with a private security firm, or _____?

6. I like his home, his lifestyle—more upscale than mine, but not impossible to bridge for my personal comfort

7. I’m at ease with his core group of friends, even though we don’t have much in common

8. If I want children, it’s time I marry

She didn’t write I love him. Though it felt true, to say “I love you, but I won’t marry you” felt incredibly harsh. So for now she didn’t add it to the list.

Under the left column, Stay Friends, she began with the obvious:

1. His mother wants someone else for him—she’s in good health, I’ll likely see her weekly for the next thirty years—mother-in-law tension is a real issue—do I want to live under that cloud of being a disappointment?

2. My indecision tells me I do not deeply want to be married or I’m not ready to be married

3. I’ve already had three failed engagements—do I want Rob to possibly be a fourth?

4. If we stay friends—a big “if”—I could remain a state detective with its required travel and no job change

5. I could become head of BOI one day if I stay with the state—a dream of mine

6. My dogs are going to hate Chicago

7. Rob will always be a finance guy, and I’ll always see that world through a lens that says it’s not life-or-death—that’s not a very supportive-wife attitude

8. Sam

Evie stopped. If she and Rob stayed just friends, she wouldn’t have to tell him any further details about her brother Sam’s death. She felt relief wash over her just at the mere thought of not having to have that conversation.

Eight Get Married items, eight Stay Friends. At least it was an equal-opportunity uncertainty, she concluded, reading over the lists again. “Jesus, what else should be on these lists?” She thought about it carefully.

After a while, she added five more to Get Married:

9. I would enjoy being a wife

10. We could have fifty years building our shared history—the sooner the wedding, the deeper, more satisfying that history will be

11. We’re already solid friends, know each other well

12. Rob enjoys spending time with me

13. I’d like to share my life with someone, and I could see doing that with Rob

Under Stay Friends, she wrote:

9. Ann has concerns about him, and I value her perspective as a trusted friend

10. A lot of good guys have been in my life, and I’ve always moved on—something in me is deeply vulnerable in a way I don’t understand when I never let myself settle into “forever” with one of them

11. I want Jesus to be the center of my life, but I’m already giving him less attention than I’d like. In my head I want more time with him, and yet I avoid making it happen. I’m not afraid of what he’ll say, as he’s always kind and wanting to help me. I think I’m afraid I can’t be fixed. . . .

12. I marry Rob and he dies on me

She felt God open her eyes even as she wrote it down, and she literally hurled the pad across the room. Of course that’s the problem. Jesus is safe because He’s already come back from the dead and isn’t going to die on me like Sam. The last thing she wanted was to wear a ring from someone who would die on her and leave her like Sam had.

She got up from the couch, feeling like she wanted to kick something. She left the pad where it had fallen, scooped up her coat and keys. She was significantly behind on her gym and shooting-range time. She’d use the county sheriff’s facilities, burn through a couple of hours with some intense exercise.

Her brother was dead—she’d already said goodbye to one family member. There was no way she was going to live with the fear of losing another person she loved. She’d rather stay single than survive that pain again.