60

DYLAN

I’ve just gotten Casey and her family to the safe house when a phone call from Elise Pace comes. I didn’t expect to hear from her, but she asks if she can come visit me at home and talk. I tell her I still don’t have a place to live, but I agree to meet her at a restaurant.

I’m curious what she has to say.

She shows up at exactly four o’clock, a perfect meeting time since the restaurant is almost empty. I don’t know whether or not to hug her, but she leans over and hugs me and presses a kiss on my cheek.

We sit down, and she squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry about your apartment burning, Dylan. I really don’t think Jim knew about any of that. He wouldn’t have allowed it.”

“No, I didn’t think he did.”

Tears rim her eyes. “It’s wrong, what happened, on so many levels. I wish he were still here so I could ask him what he was thinking, giving in to blackmail. Bringing all this on us.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just stay quiet.

She dries her eyes and sits up straighter. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to fall apart again.” She draws in a long breath. “I wanted you to know that I’ve been digging back through financial records, trying to figure out what part of our finances was criminally gained, what part was legitimate income. Back about fifteen years ago, Jim went through a rough patch in his business. He’d made some risky investments, and he lost a lot of money. I think it must have been then that he sold corporate secrets to a rival company. Keegan was probably targeting him to blackmail for something—anything—because Jim was rich. By the time Keegan figured out what Jim had done, Jim was the CEO of the company he had betrayed, and he had investors and shareholders to answer to. He couldn’t let that get out. If Jim had just told me he was in trouble . . . I didn’t have to live in that big house. I often wondered if it was best to bring Brent up in that way. I would have been happy living in a regular neighborhood and downscaling our life. But I never got the chance to weigh in on that, because he never told me we were having problems.”

“I know you always made Brent your priority over everything,” I say. “You were just a great mom. That’s how I thought of you.”

She bursts into tears again and squeezes my hand. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me, Dylan.” She looks up at the ceiling tiles. “I miss Brent so much. All this . . . if I could turn back time and know what was going on. If I could intervene somehow.”

“What could you have done?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers. She forces her posture straighter again. “I really didn’t come here to do this. I came to tell you something else. Something good. At least, I hope you’ll think so.”

“What?”

“I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for thinking that girl—Casey Cox—did this to Brent. I’m proud of you for figuring all this out and exposing everything, even when it meant going against Jim and me. Brent would have wanted you to do that. I know he would.”

“He sure wouldn’t have wanted the wrong person accused of his murder.”

“No, he wouldn’t. I feel like I was part of the reason Casey was put in all that danger.”

“Well, by that logic, you’re part of the reason she got out of it. If you hadn’t hired me, if God hadn’t given me clarity and discernment about the evidence, then she might still be hiding, or she might be dead by now.”

“I want to do something for her. For you.”

I shake my head. “No, Elise. We don’t need anything. You have enough to deal with.”

“No, I was thinking about what I could do. I’ve taken all the money that looks like it came from illegal means, and I have a trustee who’s finding victims’ rights groups to donate it to. But out of the money that was in Brent’s trust fund, I wanted to give you a gift.”

I smile. “You can’t,” I say. “I’m a police officer now. I can’t take gifts from you.”

“Then it’s a gift to Casey. I think she was a good friend to Brent, and she helped find his killer.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a check. She writes Casey’s name in the “Pay to the Order Of ” blank, then slides it across the table to me. “I thought it might help her with the down payment on a house or something. I know you’re in love with her. And from what I’ve seen of her, I can see why. She’s strong, Dylan. She has integrity. And I want the two of you to have what you deserve.”

I look down at the amount, and I’m blown away. It’s not just a down payment. It’s enough for an entire starter home. “Elise, this is too much.”

“No, it’s not. Brent had all this money just sitting there. I’ll sell his apartment, his car. I don’t want to spend it on myself. It’s just too . . . you know. I want it to go to something that would have made him happy. You were the best friend he ever had. Maybe Casey was the other one. I think he would be thrilled to see the two of you together.”

I look down at the check, not sure Casey will accept it. “I’ll have to run this by the department, make sure it doesn’t somehow go against policy, even if it’s Casey’s. Like, for instance, if I did marry her, it would come to me too, and I don’t want to create any problems. The department is overcompensating for all the corruption, so we have to play by the rules.”

“Marriage?” she asks, smiling. “Was that a hypothetical, or do you plan to marry her?”

I can’t help smiling. “I haven’t proposed, but I can’t see my future without her.”

“Then you’d better get on that.”

“Yeah. Maybe I’d better.” I chuckle lightly, and she seems to enjoy that. Her eyes light up.

“It’s just . . . I’ve never been with her when things were normal and boring, when life was going along like it does without someone about to kill us. She hasn’t been with me like that either. I’m thinking we need some time to hang out like that, when we can see if we still like each other when things aren’t so intense.”

“I know you pretty well, Dylan. You’re not an adrenaline junkie. I think you’ll be fine together. Don’t waste too much time. Life is really short.”

When she leaves, I stare at the check and wonder what it might be like if we did shop for a house together. If we moved in and bought furniture, watched TV and cooked and did laundry . . . The mundane, daily activities seem so pleasant when I think of doing them with her.

Maybe Elise has a point. Maybe I shouldn’t waste any more time.