The man glanced at Mrs. Lone and laughed uncomfortably. “Jeez, Dotty, you make it sound as though she’s committed a crime.”
Mrs. Lone made a noise that might have been meant as a laugh, but came out more as a grunt.
The man walked over to Livia and held out his hand. “If you want to be friends, you can’t call me Officer Harris. You have to call me Rick. Okay?”
Livia had learned a lot about how to shake hands since that first time with Tanya. Reminding herself to look in his eyes, she took Rick’s big hand in her smaller one and gave it an awkward squeeze. Rick squeezed back. It was only a slight squeeze, but she was aware of the strength behind it.
Rick smiled and released her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Livia.”
This was one of the first things Nanu had taught her, and there had been countless opportunities to practice it at the Lones’ parties. So it was easy to respond, “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you. Dotty told me you got straight A’s last semester.”
If Mrs. Lone had told him anything at all about her grades or anything else, Livia thought, it could only have been because he had insisted. She glanced over and saw Mrs. Lone watching them. As always, there was something suspicious in the woman’s expression. And this time, somehow, something envious, as well. Livia didn’t know why, but she could tell Mrs. Lone didn’t want Livia talking to her brother.
But she knew the mention of her grades was intended as a compliment. It would be rude to offer nothing in return. So she nodded and said, “Yes.”
“That’s amazing. I mean, six months ago, you barely spoke a word of English, is that right?”
“Mr. Lone—and Mrs. Lone—they got me tutors.”
“Well, that was good of them. But even so, that’s quite an achievement. I think you must be very smart.”
“I . . . study a lot.”
He laughed. “I studied a lot, too. And I grew up speaking English. But I never got straight A’s.”
Mrs. Lone had called him “Officer.” Livia knew the woman wouldn’t like it, but she couldn’t resist asking. “Are you . . . a policeman?”
Rick nodded. “Twenty-five years on the job in Portland.”
Portland, she thought. Nason.
“What kind of policeman?”
Mrs. Lone stood. “Livia, my brother had a long drive from Portland, and he’s probably tired. So . . .”
Rick gave his sister a strange glance—half amusement, half annoyance—then looked at Livia again. “You know how you can tell you’re getting older? When your little sister starts treating you like an invalid. I’m a homicide detective, Livia. That means—”
“Murder,” Livia said.
Rick laughed. “Sorry. I should have known you’d know the word. Anyway, yes, just a humble Portland cop, taking a few days to visit his sister and her family.”
Knowing again that Mrs. Lone wouldn’t like it, Livia said, “What about you? Your family?”
Rick shrugged. “Being a cop can make it hard to have kids and all that. So no, Dotty and my four nephews are my family.” He smiled. “And now you.”
She didn’t know why, but that shrug was the first thing Rick had done that didn’t strike Livia as genuine. And while his answer about not having a family of his own had been smoothly delivered, Livia wondered why he felt he needed to explain. At least when he said she was his family now, it didn’t bother her—unlike with Mr. Lone, coming from Rick it didn’t sound like a threat or a trap. And he’d left out Mr. Lone when describing who was his family—what did that mean?
She didn’t know what to make of it all, and wanted to think about it later. So for the moment, she just said, “Okay.”
“I’m going to be here for a few days. If you ever feel like a break from studying, I’d love to hear about how things are going—school, life, whatever.”
The whole time they’d been talking, she’d been expecting him to say something about her “ordeal” or her “bravery.” She was intrigued, and glad, that he hadn’t.
Mrs. Lone’s pinched look became even more cramped. Not wanting to upset her or to offend Rick, Livia only nodded.
Rick reached for her hand and shook it again. “All right, then. It’s really nice to meet you, Livia. I hope we’ll get a chance to chat some more.”
25—THEN