stared at the crowd and backed up a few steps, eyes daring them to go rogue so he could pull his cuffs. Upon the noise level subsiding and microphones lowered, he swiveled and strolled up on the porch. Good grief. At least they served a higher purpose by keeping vandals at bay until the family figured out their next step. It was the only kudos he was willing to give them.
He barely laid knuckles to the dark wood before it opened enough for him to slip inside the dim room. A quick scan of the environment gave an impression of a well-kept home with its wraparound couch, big-boy recliner, decent-size flat screen, children’s toys resting inside a blue milk crate in the corner, and preference for southwest artwork.
The crumpled pillow paired with a wrinkled blanket on the sofa clued him someone parked there last night and hadn’t found a restful moment. The eerie quietness sat at odds with the madness outside. He turned and found Jason leaning on the wall behind the door.
“Hey there.”
“Hi.”
The poor guy was a wreck, as expected. Pale face, dark circles under puffy eyes, shadow of a beard, and sleep-tossed hair reflected what ate his insides at a steady rate. He wore the same clothes as yesterday.
Pushed from the shadows, Jason held out his hand, still enough of a gentleman in him to make the effort.
Max returned the firm grip and shake.
“Thank you, Detective Browning. I heard what you said to them. Was thinking of spraying them down with the water hose. Glad you came by.” He swallowed hard and made his way through an arched doorway leading into a kitchen.
Slow, measured steps clued Max the guy moved on autopilot. Routine. Unthinking. He followed him in.
“Uh. Want coffee? I should make some.”
“Sure. I like it black.”
“Me too.”
Settled at the oak dining table, he observed the robotic man fill the carafe with water, retrieve a red can from the cabinet, and face the coffee pot. He hesitated and backed up a few steps, appearing stuck inside a memory.
“The last time I saw her, she stood right here.” Jason’s hand waved in a slow back-and-forth motion over the area he envisioned her, as if he could somehow reclaim what he lost.
Max leaned forward to catch the low, shaky voice.
“She looked tired, but she was still my Mary.” White teeth chewed on a bottom lip for a second. “I can’t remember if I said I love you before I left.” His shoulders slumped. “God, I hope I did.”
Max lunged forward and caught the carafe angling closer to the floor and took it from Jason’s shaking hand.
“Go sit down. I’ll make it. Got one like it at the house.”
With an absent nod, Jason plopped on the nearest chair.
“Are the kids still asleep?” The question seemed to snap the guy out of his stupor.
“Uh, no, they’re with Audrey and her sister.” He gestured absently to the right. “Stephanie lives two blocks over. We didn’t want them scared by the news people. I haven’t told them yet…the boys.” His jaw clenched. “I don’t know how.”
“Have you eaten?”
Jason’s eyes shifted upward and to the left, trying to recall mundane activities trapped inside his muddled brain. “I can’t remember.”
Coffee brewing and filling the quiet space with something familiar and comforting, Max slipped two slices of bread into the toaster and retrieved butter and a jar of grape jelly from the refrigerator. After discovering eggs, milk, cheese, and some chopped ham, it didn’t take but a few minutes to whip up a fat omelet. He became a master at it after his divorce from Victoria. Seven years of bachelorhood gifted numerous skills. The second button on his light blue shirt bore proof he could use a needle and thread.
Satisfied with his creation, Max filled their cups, set the heaping plate in front of Jason, and sat down.
“Eat before you fall over.”
The poor guy stared at the food as if wondering how the hell it got there.
“Uh. Thank you.”
One tentative bite appeared to kick in the man’s appetite. He dug in for another scoop.
“Where’s your family?”
Jason stopped long enough to take his first sip of the hot brew. “Mine are dead. Mary’s came in last night. Her sister flew in from New York and put them up at a hotel outside the city.”
“Smart.”
“Yeah, Delia’s a tough lady. She’s helping them make the funeral arrangements for me. We’ll all tell the boys tonight, I guess.” He hesitated and set the fork aside.
Max was glad to find he at least ate half of the food. Eyes shining like polished marble lifted to his.
“We’ll bury Mary near her parent’s home. Maybe not in Elk City, but close. If I tried to do it here in the city, I’m sure someone would find out and trash her grave.” He blinked a few times as another realization slammed into his brain.
“I should move. Oh, God, this is so fucked up.”
“Yes, it is. Listen, this isn’t any easier than when we first spoke, but I promised to do everything in my power to figure out what happened. I need to search Mary’s things to find sense of what she did leading up to yesterday. A journal, notes, anything. Do I have your permission? Up to you.”
Jason nodded and pointed toward a doorway sporting quaint saloon-style swinging panels.
“Sure. Of course. Our room’s down the hall. I’ll show you.”
Long strides faltered the closer they came to the bedroom. He reached out, pushed the double doors open, and took a quick step back, almost as if afraid of electrocution for breaching the threshold. With both hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans and holding a steady glare on his socked feet, Jason’s cheeks revealed obvious embarrassment.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing you told me yesterday sank in until I found the lockbox open and the gun and ammunition missing. I kept hoping the dead woman in the car was an eerie twin and Mary would come walking in the door after she fought her way out of the binds. How stupid is that?”
Max patted Jason’s slumped shoulders.
“Not at all. Lost a close friend once. I was there when he died. Right in my arms, in fact. Even still, it took me a solid month to quit expecting to hear his voice telling me to wake up every time I answered a ringing phone. I prayed I was in a coma. So no, your hope is far from stupid.”
Jason pursed his lips and managed what tried to be a soft laugh.
“Yeah, I guess our minds play tricks when we’re trying to come to grips with something so bizarre.”
“I
