It was an oddly quiet scene. Jamie tried to make a little conversation, letting it be known that the dishwasher repairman was coming on Monday. Neither responded. She then asked them both if they would like a second pancake. Harley shook her head and Emma, eyeing Harley, shook her head as well.
Jamie made herself a pancake and joined them at the table. She ate without tasting. Nourishment more than the joy of a meal.
“Harley is awake,” Emma pointed out.
Harley frowned at her aunt. “Yeah. Why? Were you waiting for me?”
“You want a dog,” said Emma.
“Umm . . .” Harley flicked Jamie a look, her brows still furrowed.
“Emma would like a dog, too,” Jamie explained.
“Now that Mom’s in the garden,” Emma clarified.
“Oh,” said Harley. She stared at her half-eaten plate, then swallowed hard. “That would be great.” Her eyes filled with tears.
Jamie’s heart hurt for her daughter. “Should we go to the shelter in town? Camryn’s involved with Love . . . pets . . . or something?”
“Luv-Ahh-Pet. You spell Luv with a ‘u,’” said Emma.
Harley nodded her head vigorously.
“I’ll give Camryn a call.”
“Who is Camryn?” Emma asked.
“A friend of mine. From high school.”
“Camryn Watts,” said Emma.
“That’s right.” Jamie was impressed that she remembered.
Emma said, “We will name him King. No dummy names for our dog.”
They both looked at her, and Jamie asked, “What if he is a she?”
“We will name her Queenie.”
“What if she already has a name that she knows?” Harley posed. She’d dashed her tears away and now finally looked more awake and in the moment.
Emma frowned at Harley. Clearly, that thought hadn’t occurred to her. “We will answer each challenge as it comes,” she announced, and in her tone, Jamie heard an echo of her mother’s voice.
As Emma left to get ready, Jamie asked Harley, “Have you heard anything more from Marissa?”
“Why would I?”
“Because you’re her friend. Because you were on the phone with her. Because she’s scared.”
Harley shook her head. “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.”
“I just want to make sure she’s all right.”
“She’s fine. Can we drop it now?” Harley swept up her plate and put it in the sink with a clatter.
“How about you? How are you doing?”
“Mom!”
“Give me a break, Harley. I just want to make sure we’re all okay.”
“We’re all okay!”
With that, she turned away and ran up the stairs.
* * *
Sunday morning.
Normally a day off for Cooper, but the attack on Marissa had changed everything. Howie had been put in charge of the investigation by Chief Bennihof himself, as Cooper, being Marissa’s stepfather, was considered too close to the victim to be dispassionate enough to do the job.
Bullshit.
Cooper was knocking on Laura’s door at 8:30 a.m. Laura answered in her bathrobe, tucking it tighter around herself upon seeing Cooper on her doorstep. He didn’t wait for her to speak. “I want to talk to Marissa.”
“You talked to her last night.”
“I want to talk to her this morning. Howie will be interviewing her later.”
“Howie? Why? She doesn’t know anything. Leave her alone.”
He just looked at her. Laura knew, from her years with Cooper, the steps of an investigation. How many times had he complained to her about parents whose instincts to shield their child got in the way?
“She should never have gotten hooked up with that new girl,” Laura declared, throwing the door wide and walking away.
“What’s Harley got to do with this?”
“I don’t know. Something. Everything’s gone sideways since Marissa adopted her.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Cooper asked her as he followed her to the back of the house and the kitchen. It always felt a little strange to be in the same rooms he’d shared with her during their marriage. Maybe it was a good thing she was moving.
Laura shook her head to him, but didn’t turn around. She moved to the coffeepot on the counter. “Want some coffee?”
“Sure.”
She poured him a cup into one of the flowered mugs she’d purchased at the start of their marriage and hung on a mug tree. She gave him hyacinths. The interior color of the cup was purplish blue. It was the mug she’d always given him when they were living together. He wondered if she’d done it on purpose, or if she even noticed. She didn’t say anything about it.
She didn’t bother offering him cream or sugar. She knew he took it black.
“Marissa’s not up yet. Last night was . . . harrowing. Are you supposed to be talking to her before Howie?”
“No.”
Their eyes met. Laura correctly read what he wasn’t saying—that he, too, was a parent who wanted to protect their kid.
“What do you think happened?” Laura asked. All pretense was gone. They were talking about Marissa now.
“I think she was attacked by a stranger who meant her harm. . . .”
“But?”
“I don’t know.”
Laura inhaled, then nodded. She went to the bottom of the stairs and yelled upward. “Marissa! Cooper’s here. He’s got some things to talk about with you.” She looked at Cooper and said in a quiet voice, “I’m in the room, too.”
He wanted to protest. He would, if he’d had a leg to stand on. Instead, he gave her a curt nod.
Marissa came downstairs in her pajamas. She looked pale and her hair was mussed. “What?” she asked a bit resentfully.
Cooper explained that his partner would be interviewing her soon about the events of the night before.
“Why can’t you?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“Because I’m your stepfather.”
Marissa immediately had a fit, saying she wouldn’t do it. She even appealed to her mother, but Laura had gotten the lay of the land and wasn’t going to fight with Cooper on this one, like she normally might.
The three of them walked into the living room. “Where’s David?” Marissa asked, which Cooper had been wondering about as well.
“He’s on a run,” said Laura.
David Musgrave was religious about his exercise. He ran several miles a day, every day, sometimes longer.
“I’m not talking around him,” Marissa told her mother.
“Well, he’s
