Page 94 of All the Missing Pieces

Fuck.I was the world’s biggest asshole.

I cleared my throat as I shoved my phone into my pocket. “All right.”

“Easy as that?” Ridley challenged.

Nothing about this was easy. But it was the least I could do to try to make things right when I kept fucking up. “Let’s go.”

I inclined my head toward my SUV. I shouldn’t be leaving the station. Not with everything going on. But it wasn’t like there was something I could do other than wait—for Ryan to take Tara’s statement, for Kerr to slip and tell us more messed-up shit he’d done.

All of that would be here in another couple of hours. And seeing Em would help. Would remind me that she was safe, as okay as she could be.

“I’ve got my van here,” Ridley reminded me.

One corner of my mouth kicked up the barest amount. “Hope you parked in an oversized spot so you don’t get a ticket.”

She glared at me. “I will sic Tater on you in the middle of the night.”

I held up both hands in mock surrender. “I solemnly swear not to write you a ticket.”

“Glad to see Tater and I are intimidating enough to keep you in line.”

My lips twitched. “It’s not you. It’s the damn cat. I see murder in her eyes.”

“You love Tater. Don’t deny it.”

I climbed behind the wheel, waiting for Ridley. “Look what she did to me when I tried to give her a treat yesterday.” I held up my finger with a series of puncture wounds for Ridley to examine.

“It’s barely a scratch,” she argued as I pulled out of the station’s parking lot.

“I probably have some disease,” I shot back.

“We could make a pit stop at the doctor,” Ridley offered. “Get you some rabies shots.”

I instantly fisted my hand, hiding the injuries. “Keep your needles away from me.”

She laughed, the sound lightening a little more of the weight that was bearing down on me. Scattering some of the shadowsthat had made their home in my chest. There was something about Ridley that always did that. Sometimes it was something ridiculous or understanding or fierce. The methods were as all over the place as she was, but they always reached me.

Ridley chattered on about the risks of rabies, telling a story about a friend who had to get the shots after trying to feed a squirrel a peanut on their campus quad. And I let her wash away the worst of the day with her presence alone.

It didn’t take long for us to get to Emerson’s house. Trey’s truck was already parked outside, and I pulled in next to it but didn’t shut off the engine right away. Instead I stared at the yellow house. Em had painted it with my and Trey’s help.

“She doesn’t usually let people inside,” I finally said. “Just Trey and me.”

Ridley didn’t say anything at first, just took in my statement. “I’m good with moving at Emerson’s pace. If it’s too much, I’ll take that cute dog of hers outside to play fetch and admire her incredible flowers.”

I turned to Ridley, feeling things I sure as hell shouldn’t have been, given our agreement. “Thanks, Chaos.”

“Come on,” she urged. “I’m hungry.”

Ridley was out of my SUV before I could say another word. She’d let the events of the day slide off her somehow. Maybe she’d learned that skill by covering so many cases. Living in the pain of the victims and their loved ones, but somehow figuring out how to let it go when she needed to and focus on the good.

I climbed out of my vehicle and met Ridley at the bottom of the steps. But before I could say anything, the door opened, and Emerson was there. I knew her well enough to see the nerves. The way her fingers twisted in a kitchen towel as Bear leaned into her.

Something told me that Ridley saw it too because her smile widened. “Please tell me that massive floof of a dog likes to be cuddled.”

Em chuckled, her grip on the towel loosening a fraction. “He thinks he’s a lapdog.”

Ridley clapped, then hurried up the steps and crouched. “What’s his name?”

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