2:59 P.M.
Following a few more minutes of questioning Witten, Devlin and Randall stood, thanked her for her time, and made their way to the front door, Devlin in the lead.
Hearing a sigh coming from behind, he looked over his shoulder to see a sullen expression overtaking Witten’s face. She’s sinking back into a funk again.
Devlin opened the door.
Randall stopped and faced his host. “Ma’am, if you’ll indulge me for a moment before we leave.”
She peered up at him.
“When I was sixteen, I fell head over heels for this girl a couple years younger than me. I mean we spent every free minute we had together doing all sorts of things.”
Devlin pulled up short and faced her partner, her brows bunched together. I thought we were finished here.
“Yes, at the time, at the age of sixteen, I had thought she was the one.” He chuckled. “Then, one day I found out that she wasn’t quite as fond of me as I was of her. Chalk it up to young love, teenage hormones, fickleness...whatever. The relationship died.”
Picking up on his last word, Witten intertwined her forearms and tilted her head to one side.
“Well, anyway, when she left me, and I discovered she was seeing this other guy, I went into a deep funk.” He glanced around at the darkened dwelling. “I spent all my time in my bedroom...under the covers with the curtains closed and the lights out...licking my wounds.”
Witten shot a look at her surroundings.
“I even downed,” he shook his head at the floor, “way too many twenty-ounce bottles of soda pop.”
Envisioning the wine bottles behind her, she averted her gaze and swallowed.
“This went on for,” he spied the ceiling, “oh, I’d say a good week or more. Then, Pops walks into my—Pops was my grandfather. He was also my mentor and my best friend all rolled into a good man.”
Devlin folded forearms over her chest and inwardly settled in for the story, for the nugget of truth, the inspirational ending she knew was coming.
“Anyway, he walked into my darkened room and kicked one of those pop bottles I had littered around. Only this one,” he glimpsed the empty wine bottles on the end table, “wasn’t empty. It was half full. And it spilled all over the carpeting.”
Devlin winced then eyed Witten to see the woman totally engrossed, totally focused on the storyteller.
“Pops never said a word, though. He just picked up the bottle, put the cap back on, and set it aside. Then, he sat on the edge of the bed, clasped his hands together, put his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward. Of course, I said nothing. Wasn’t in the mood for talking, for company, for eating...pretty much wasn’t in the mood for anything.” He peeped at Witten. “You know what I mean?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Five minutes pass, and I can’t take the silence anymore. So, I said to him ‘Go ahead, Pops. Tell me I’m acting dumb. Tell me I just need to get over her and move on with life.’” Randall half snickered, his mind taking him back to that moment. “And you know what he did, what he said to me?”
Witten took a half step toward Randall and leaned in closer, her eyes boring a hole through the man’s skull.
Devlin noticed. She also noticed that the woman’s demeanor had done an about-face, as Witten waited for the ending. She no longer had that sad, sullen, ready-to-slit-her-wrists facade. Devlin regarded her partner and privately beamed. You sure know how to capture people’s attention.
“Pops just barely shook his head and said, ‘Nothing to be said, Son. Pain comes and pain goes. In between those times, people just need to know that others are around...others who care about them and who are standing by ready to help.’” Randall squinted at Witten and noted watery eyes and a barely perceptible twitching lower lip.
Blinking repeatedly, the woman looked away.
Ten silent moments passed.
“Now, I’m in no way implying that what I went through is anywhere close to the devastating loss you’ve endured, Ms—” he shook his head, “Julia. But what I am saying is,” he paused, “you have loved ones who care about you, who want to help you. Don’t,” he jutted out his chin at the gloomy setting behind her, “don’t stay holed up inside. In time, your pain will pass...or at the very least become bearable. Remember what my Pops said. Pain comes and pain goes. But until it leaves you, know that others who care about you stand ready to help you.” He laid a gentle hand on her right shoulder. “Let them in, Julia.”
Her face contorting, unable to keep her lower lip from quivering any longer, she went to tip toes and hugged him.
Randall returned the gesture before adding a couple pats between her shoulder blades.
Ten seconds later, she backed away and wiped her eyes. “What kind of cops are you, anyway?” She sniffled and swiped at her nose. “Do you always go around counseling people?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Everyone has to have a backup plan in case their day job doesn’t pan out.”
She snorted out a quick laugh then waggled her head a couple times. Her eyes grew bigger in the next instant. “Since this all started,” she huffed, “I can’t really remember the last time I actually laughed.”
Devlin smiled.
Randall mimicked his partner’s expression. “It suits you well. Take care of yourself, Julia.”
“I will. Thank you.”
The marshals exited the home and headed down the driveway.
Witten listed toward them. “So, are you going to catch the people who murdered Todd?”
Randall whirled around. “Hell yeah, we are.”
Devlin scowled at him before facing Witten and delivering a more measured, professional reply. “We’re going to do everything in our power to see that justice is served.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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