Page 24 of Crazy in Love

“Yup.”

They drove back to Tess’s and parked on the street.

“Thanks for driving with me.” He cringed as she put the keys in the visor, got out, and shut the doorwithoutlocking it. Didn’t anyone around here believe in security?

“You walking home?”

“Yeah, it’s not far. Later, Gimpy.”

He watched as she started off down the sidewalk, shoulders heavy with something. Most likely grief, but he sensed some guilt too. He would have to warn Faith to keep an eye on her and that boy.

With a full stomach and the pain pills still doing their thing, he felt pretty good as he hobbled up the walkway. His conversation with Hope had nudged him to make a call he’d been procrastinating.

He’d called Crystal a few times from the hospital—including the day of Andy’s funeral—but since then, had been neglectful regarding his partner’s widow. He picked up his phone and dialed.

“Hey, Crystal. It’s Nick. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch more.”

“It’s okay. I understand you have your own issues to deal with. How’s recovery going?”

“Slow.” He shouldn’t complain. At least he was recovering. Nick had no reason to feel anything but grateful that he’d survived. But the guilt often overwhelmed the gratitude. Not that he would burden her with that. “I’ll be fine. How are the kids?”

“Caylie’s too young to understand what happened. Andy Junior keeps asking when Daddy’s coming home. It rips myheart out every time I have to tell him he’s not.” He heard the sadness in her voice.

“Do you want me to come back to Boston? I mean, I’m too hobbled up to drive or help out in any meaningful way around the house. But I could be there for you, if you need me.”

“Thanks, Nick. But I’m okay. My parents are helping a lot with the kids, and the agents from the unit have offered assistance. One came by and mowed the lawn last week.”

They talked for a minute more. He hung up, feeling frustrated and useless. He couldn’t help Crystal. He couldn’t work. There was nothing to do here but wrestle a bad case of survivor’s guilt.

The department psychologist had reached out, but Nick had put him off. He’d have to undergo a psych eval before returning to duty, but he needed more time to sort through things before that happened.

Whyhadhe survived? Why him and not Andy? They were questions no one could answer. Well, maybe God, but since he hadn’t talked to Him in a while, it would be tough to get a response.

Entering Faith’s room, he immediately noticed the books on the nightstand. He thumbed through them. Two looked good. The other had something to do with somatic exercises for healing. Whatever that meant.

Faith was a little nutty, but she’d piqued his interest. And though he respected her privacy, curiosity got the better of him, and he started poking around her room. Not like he would read her journal or anything—he hadn’t found one anyway—just curious what made her tick.

Pinned inside the closet door, he found a large piece of tagboard with random pictures glued to it. Flowy feminine handwriting had titled it, “my vision board.”

He’d heard of vision boards, knew they were like wish list collages, but had never actually seen one. Certainly didn’t know anyone who had one. Faith’s looked to be several years old—edges rumpled and bent, the photos hanging askew as if the glue was about to give up.

The first thing that caught his eye was his name! Well, his and three others—including his friend Max. Next to the names were magazine cutouts of a diamond ring and a headless man in a tuxedo. There was a photograph of an old house, and the word “love” written in bold red letters. Toward the bottom were smaller pictures of a sandy beach, a stack of money, and a pink Volkswagen Beetle.

It looked like Faith really wanted to get married. Which didn’t jibe at all with the bits and pieces he’d heard from Tess over the years. She’d said Faith dated and dumped, churned and burned through men like a hot knife through butter. Then again, the board was old and people changed.

Okay, well, that was what he got for snooping. Faith would probably call it karma. He closed the door, wishing he could unsee and unknow what he’d just discovered. So she’d had a crush on him? That was ages ago. No big deal. Surely she’d moved on since then.

He grabbed one of the new books, limped into the living room, and dove in. He must have nodded off, because the sound of keys jingling and Tess’s mumbled cursing woke him.

“Why’d you lock the door?” she greeted.

“Safety.” He shrugged. “And habit.”

“You’re lucky I have a key. Nobody locks their doors, dude.”

“Sorry, not sorry. Even in a small town, you should be careful.” And as an afterthought, he added, “Also, pretty sure Faith needs a key.”

Tess huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. I got an earful about that. You okay? I heard about what happened at the bookstore. Why wouldn’t you call me?”

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