Logan knew this was going to be tough. It was one of the few things that could make him tremble. Even his deepest fears couldn’t rattle him the way this did, but he had to face them. Pushing his limits was just a part of life.
He rang the buzzer, and the door opened quickly. Kerry Henris’s mother, Stacey, opened the door with hope dazzling in her eyes. A small smile escaped her lips as she saw Logan, apparently unable to read his worried frown.
“Is it about Kerry?” she asked.
“Yes, but it’s—”
“Come in.”
Logan wanted to refuse – to keep this brief so he could retreat quickly – but the hand on his shoulder told him to take his time. This news was going to be painful, and he thought it was only right that he delivered it personally. Especially after the faith they had put in him.
The door shut behind him. Stacey offered him a drink, but he refused. They were standing in the narrow hallway that led to a set of stairs, where Kerry’s younger brother bounded down, saw what was unfolding, and stopped to listen in.
It only made this harder.
“Tell me you’ve made progress,” Stacey said, wringing her hands together.
The TV in the other room went quiet. There was shuffling, and Logan suddenly knew he had an invisible audience. Invisible was better, he thought, as it was going to be hard enough telling this to the girl’s mother. It had always been the hardest part of the job.
“Mrs. Henris, the police are likely on their way over here, but I wanted to come in and personally let you know…” He shook his head, meeting her eyes. A tear formed and rolled down her cheek. She already knew the truth, but she was still looking at him optimistically. “They found the body of a young woman in a park. I didn’t get a look at her myself, but a friend on the force informs me it was your daughter.”
Stacey continued to stare. The teardrop dropped off her chin. There was a sniffle in the next room. The brother on the stairs shook his head. The silence was so uncomfortable that Logan thought about leaving right away. The job had been done, after all.
“You’re certain it’s her?” she asked.
“I trust my friend. Your daughter is gone. I’m sorry.”
“But… no… that can’t be true. What happened?”
“She was murdered.” Right to the chase, Logan thought. It was the only way to do this, but the details could be left to Chicago PD. “I did everything I could to find her, but these things are a shot in the dark at best. I’m sorry.”
More silence. Some loud sobbing in the living room, followed by an agonizing wail. Logan had never felt sympathy quite like this. It caused him great discomfort, and if he wasn’t careful, guilt would follow. It usually did.
“This is your fault,” Stacey said as more tears appeared. She stepped forward and pushed him, her jaw set as she shoved him in his chest. It didn’t move him, and that only seemed to anger her more. “This is your fault. If you had taken the money, you might have worked harder. You’d have found my little girl and – and…”
She burst into tears. An old man – Stacey’s father – stepped into the hallway and took her into his arms. She sobbed into his chest as he held her. Logan looked up toward the boy, crying alone on the stairs. He realized it now: through no fault of his own, he had single-handedly destroyed this family. They were broken, and they always would be. He knew that because he was broken, and that was also not going to change.
“I think you’d better leave,” the father said.
“You’re right. Just—”
“Now, Mr. Fox.”
On any other day – if these were any other circumstances – Logan might have stood his ground and told that man where to shove it. But now, with this family torn at the seams, all he could do was exit the house and find some comfort in the fresh air. He walked fast, leaving the distraught mother far behind, and the whole time he kept thinking how much he knew her pain. How it felt to be where she was, handling the uncontrollable grief.
She was going to feel that way forever.