Randy’s laugh stopped fairly abruptly, like a thought had entered his mind and pushed out any room for humor or levity. He dragged his full coffee mug across the counter and took a deep drink as Amelia tried to read his mood. He swallowed and then licked his lips before looking back at Amelia again. This time there was something in his eyes, something she could tell he wanted to say. Usually she would smooth over the awkwardness with a joke or a change of subject, but today she just sat still, waiting, wanting to know what he was thinking. He blinked a few times and then looked back down at his coffee, and the moment was gone.
“Have you ever thought about trying your hand at real estate?” Randy asked, and Amelia was 90 percent sure it wasn’t the question he wanted to ask.
“Gosh, no. I mean, I don’t have a license. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“I think you’d be good at it. You have an eye for potential, you are good with people, and you know the area better than anyone I’ve worked with so far. I mean if you are interested, then I could help you get your license, maybe even give you a place to start while you build up your own client list.”
“Wait, is this a job offer?”
Randy nodded, picking at his muffin, a hopeful but also reserved expression on his face.
“I think you’d be an excellent investment.” He shrugged, seeming almost shy. “Anyway, no pressure, but if you ever want to know more—I’m here to answer any questions.”
With a silent nod, Amelia tried not to show what she was feeling inside, but she couldn’t help but let a little balloon of pride swell up inside her. Fancy Randy wanted to give her a job, and Steve didn’t even think she could clean the hair spray off the door in a timely manner.
“Thanks, Randy.” She held back a self-satisfied smile. No way was he serious, but maybe she would be good at it and she could actually help out with bills instead of dropping a piddly few bucks into a jar every time she played an event. She thought of Randy’s car and house and clothes and . . . She didn’t need any of those things, but in her life the financial success they represented would translate to a full-time nurse for her dad, dance classes for the girls, security cameras, and a new truck for the business.
“Hey,” she added, pointing and waving with an attempt to sound casual. “Pass the muffins.”
Randy chuckled and shoved the bowl across the counter, and Amelia knew she had a lot to think about.
CHAPTER 17
ELLIE
Tuesday, May 10
4:54 p.m.
Steve’s eyes fluttered closed for the third time in the same sentence. He was clearly exhausted and being pulled down by the weight of the heavy pain medication. Travis had finished questioning him more than an hour earlier but still hadn’t left the room even for a bathroom break. Ellie wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but if she couldn’t be by her sister’s side, she would most definitely be by Steve’s, and no amount of police presence was going to stop her.
Collin was there too, asleep in a chair in the corner, a pillow that the nurse had brought in propped against the wall. He came in as soon as Ellie texted him her location. He’d stayed awake for all of Travis’s questions and most of Steve’s half-lucid conversation with Ellie. He’d been up early studying and was doing the impossible task of taking time off from his schedule to be there with Ellie. It was a sacrifice she truly appreciated, but it also reminded her every time she turned around that Caleb was still missing and she didn’t know who the dead man was lying on the slab in the morgue downstairs. As Collin slept, she watched him, studied him, trying to compare her fiancé’s sleeping form with the lifeless body she’d left behind in the Broadlands Roofing office.
Though Travis and the man who turned out to be Homicide Detective Michaels had let her stay during the last few minutes of his interview, the detective hadn’t delved into any really hard-hitting questions while Ellie was in the room. To be honest, even with her hand-holding, Steve wasn’t able to answer even the most basic questions about camera positioning and security software. She was pretty sure any earlier discussion and his resulting slurred answers would’ve been just as hard to understand.
“So, how are you holding up, Brown?” Travis asked out of nowhere, putting his phone back in his hip pocket. His tone was practiced and steady, like he was still asking about a crime.
Ellie sighed. Her hand was still entwined with Steve’s and she liked the way her short fingers and stubby nails looked against the back of his hand, like a child holding her big brother’s hand when she was scared. If only she could bring comfort to Steve the way he had with her so many other times in her life, like when he picked her up in his rig and uniform to scare away the bully girl who would tease her as she walked home from school. Or when he talked the director of the musical into giving her a new audition because she’d had a sinus infection during her first tryout. If only bullet holes could be healed with good intentions and strongly worded speeches.
“I don’t really know how to answer that, Rivera. I . . . Thank you for letting me stay with Steve. Until I can visit Amelia . . . this helps.” She gave Steve’s hand a squeeze.
“Well, you should be by her side soon enough, right?” The toughness was leaving his voice again. It was like he sometimes forgot how to be human, and then when they chatted, he started to slowly remember.
“Yeah, they just want her to be stable, I guess. They promised Collin that if there was a turn for the worse, then I could come sooner. So, I guess for now the silence is a good thing.” She tried to sound aloof, like every time her phone buzzed she didn’t jump and have an urge to go check out who was calling or texting.
“You do know that you should probably get some sleep, right?” He shifted his gaze to Collin and then back to Ellie like he was giving her a message. “I’m sure you were well into your shift when you got the call. Maybe you should go home and get some clean clothes and grab a nap.”
Ellie looked over her hodgepodge outfit and couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “I thought you liked my sweatshirt.”
“Oh, I love your sweatshirt. In fact, I think you should keep it, but I think you might be more comfortable spending the next few days here if you’ve had a shower and packed a bag. What do you think?’”
“So now I smell too? Thanks, Rivera.” Ellie tried desperately to sound lighthearted, but Travis wasn’t buying it.
He gave her a very small, sad smile. “I’m serious about this one, Brown. You can’t help anyone if you’re a mess.”
“But what if Steve wakes up and needs me?” She rubbed the hairy back of Steve’s hand with her thumb. “Or what if something happens with Amelia and I’m not . . . I’m not here to see her?”
“I’d get in my car, lights and siren, and come get you, Brown. I swear.” He leaned forward in his seat till the pad squeaked against the frame, his hands crossed in front of him, elbows on his knees. His dark eyes were soft and concerned, and she knew in that moment that he actually cared. But then he shifted back and hit the back of the chair with a thump. “Besides, don’t you live super close to the firehouse? Someone there could drive you. Isn’t any given location in Broadlands like no more than five minutes away from any other spot in the town? Knowing your mile time, I bet you could sprint there faster than I could make it to Broadlands from here in my car.”