Wrong Place, Right Time (The Bourbon Street Boys #2)

“No. She wasn’t sick. Not really. She was sad. Depressed.”


I squeeze his hand and swallow several times, trying to keep myself from losing my shit. I’ve asked as much as I can. To go any further, to delve into the details of what happened, will serve no good purpose now. “You must’ve been close, even though there’s a big age difference.”

His voice is devoid of any emotion that I can hear. “I thought we were close. But it turns out we weren’t close enough.”

I squeeze his hand harder and lean in, forcing him to look at me. “Lucky, if you’re even suggesting that you are to blame for what happened, you need to not go there.”

“I don’t think she blamed me for anything. But I blame myself. If I had just paid more attention . . .”

I shake my head. “No. Sometimes these things are battles that are fought completely inside. Nobody sees it. It happens all the time. Most people who are depressed are also very loving. They don’t want others to suffer with them. They feel very isolated, but not because other people aren’t trying to be with them or aren’t trying to understand. They just can’t connect. There is a huge disconnect when you’re depressed, and it often takes a professional to recognize it.” I sigh with frustration, wanting him to understand, but knowing he probably isn’t going to take my word for it. “You can’t blame yourself. There’s no end to that kind of torture. It’ll ruin the rest of your life, and I guarantee you, your sister would not want that for you.”

Lucky pulls his hand out from under mine and takes the keys out of the ignition. I think he’s just going to get out of the car and not say another word, but he stops staring out the window and turns to look at me. “Thanks.”

“Thanks for what? Digging into your private life? Lecturing you about something that makes you sadder than anything in the entire world? I can think of lots of better ways to spend an evening. I’m sorry that I overstepped my bounds. It’s a problem I have.”

He shakes his head and tries to smile. “No, you didn’t do that. You’re a nice person, and you saw that there was something going on, and you asked about it. I’m glad you did. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about her.”

“How come? I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to.”

“Like I said . . . it’s difficult for other people. Ozzie and the rest of them know what happened. They were here. They were the ones picking up the pieces when I fell apart. I think they worry that if they talk about it, I’m going to lose it again. I haven’t been good for a long time.”

“You look really good to me. Maybe too much.” I laugh.

His smile is sad. “My sister always said I was too handsome. She told me I should grow a big old beard to ugly myself up a little.” He grabs his stuff and opens his door.

I take that as my signal that the conversation is over and get out too. I’m relieved to know that Lucky feels like he can talk to me, but I’m also a little dizzy over the fact that the conversation went so deep. Here I thought we were just going to work an assignment together and that would be that. And then I thought that a breakin in the middle of our operation was the most stressful event I was going to be dealing with.

It’s amazing the things I’ve been through in such a short span of time. Just a few days ago I was living my normal life with nothing going on. Now I’m going out to dinner with a totally handsome, seven-foot-tall bald guy who may or may not just want to be friends, I have a new job as a freelancer, I’m hiding under a desk calling 911, and I’m counseling a guy about what I assume is the suicide of his younger sister. I have never had such an odd and interesting week.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Waking up at six-thirty to get the kids ready for school is even harder than I thought it was going to be. I’m exhausted from the previous night’s work, and four hours of sleep was not enough to erase that. But at the same time I feel very gratified. I can safely say that in all the years I’ve been working, I’ve never had a shift quite like I did last night with Lucky.

I had hoped that I’d be able to discuss all the fine details with May over breakfast, along with the other things that have been weighing heavily on my mind, but she got called away shortly after waking up.

Before parting ways at the front door with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, she and I promised we’d make time for each other this evening.

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