“Officer, I believe I may be able to help.”
✽✽✽
I finally had my cup of coffee. It had taken a lot of unnecessary drama to get it, but I had it now. I clutched it in my right hand as I parallel-parked with my left, using my knee for extra traction against the steering wheel. Once I’d eased the Bronc between an old Honda and an even older Volvo, I killed the engine. The immediate silence muffled us in peace.
It was past two in the morning, and the street was deserted except for a gray tabby cat watching from underneath an untamed camellia bush. I didn’t blame it for being careful. This close to downtown, all the houses were historic, but we were two streets away from the well-maintained ones. I locked my door and turned to Sal.
His features were warm and peachy under the dim glow of the streetlights, but his eyes were still shadowed. I’d been trying to think of what to say to him since we drove away from the donut shop, but nothing had seemed appropriate. The best I’d been able to manage was to ask him where he lived—and now we were here. There wasn’t much to see. He hadn’t left any lights on, and his bungalow was huddled in the darkness of an old oak and overgrown bushes. It wasn’t the spartan, modern apartment I’d expected, but then again, I still knew nothing about him so I wasn’t sure why I’d even had an expectation.
“Did you enjoy your donut?” Stupid question, but I had to say something, and he wasn’t moving to get out. He flashed a grin at the darkness beyond the windshield, but it was gone by the time he looked at me.
“Yes, thank you. Are you enjoying your coffee?”
“Oh, yeah. Gravity doesn’t keep me grounded. My daughter and coffee do.” I sucked in a breath. Oversharing. “It was nice of the owner to give everyone coffee and donuts. You could tell he felt terrible.”
It was true. The poor man had arrived just as Sal had started to talk to the officer and had been near tears as he hugged his employees and everyone in the shop. He looked vaguely familiar, with wiry strings of hair clinging to his mostly bare scalp. Maybe my grandmother had introduced me once. His donut shop had been open since before I was born.
I could picture myself holding Mimi’s hand, looking up at her smiling, red-painted lips, her auburn hair set in fashionable curls, as I pointed to a powdered confection behind the glass case. I wondered if that was a real memory or just a child’s leftover daydream.
“What are you thinking about?”
His question caught me off guard, and I shrugged. That seemed to annoy him, and he turned back to the window. He definitely wasn’t going to make this easy.
“Sal . . . how did you . . . ? What happened tonight?”
“What are you asking?” His voice was carefully neutral as he shifted his gaze to the cat. As if called, it sauntered out from under the bush and stretched in the pool of light from the streetlamp.
“I’m asking how you were able to give so much information. To the officer, I mean. How did you know all that? And before . . . ” My voice trailed off. I wasn’t ready to ask him about that, because if he asked me the same question, I wasn’t ready to tell him.
“You heard me tell the officer. I have a photographic memory. It is not unheard of.” He sounded defensive, as if he thought I was accusing him of something.
I copied his pose facing the windshield and wrapped both my hands around my cup. It was still a little warm, but not nearly as comforting as . . . I leaned my head back against the seat. It was late. This night had been beyond bizarre and I was exhausted. I’d slept well the past couple of nights, but all the months before had left me drained. And poor Cara . . . how was I ever going to . . .
“Lila? Will you be alright driving yourself home?”
Confused, I turned my head toward the dulcet sound of his voice. The light had found his eyes now, and warmed his smoky gray irises to glowing ashy embers, as if he was slowly burning inside. I wanted to bring his face closer to mine so I could feel his heat again.
He pulled back.
Why was . . . ? I’d dozed off! My cup was on the dashboard, and I’d slipped down in my seat. Wriggling upright, I tried to get my bearings. Oh, God. Had I said that I wanted to touch him out loud? I didn’t think so, but his jaw was tight and he was staring through the windshield again.
With a lithe plop, the scruffy cat leapt onto the hood, startling us both. My nervous laugh was too loud, but it seemed to relax him a little. He managed a smile for the tabby, which was now rubbing against the windshield in front of him.
“It is late, Lila. You need to sleep. Will you be alright driving yourself home?”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll roll the windows down and play some music.” A huge yawn stretched into a grimace as I tried to hold it in. “Well! That was ladylike. Sorry.”
“I could . . . if you need me to, I would drive you home.” He spoke to the cat, but I could’ve sworn he blushed.
“Oh! No. Thanks, though.” I forced a little energy into my voice and made myself sit up straighter. “I’m fine, really. I wouldn’t have you go to that much trouble.” Hopefully my own blush was as hard to see.
“Then I wish you a restful night.” The words were normal enough, considering, but they sounded thick. His right hand moved to the door and I grabbed his other arm.
“Thank you. For tonight. And the ladder . . . and the other day about the coffee,”
