Nigel nodded. He hated that he felt even mildly curious to know what she was doing in her life. Once she had walked away from him, he had vowed to forget her forever.
Obviously, she had forgotten him. If it was true that she had a son around the age of eight, then she had clearly moved on from him fairly quickly. Merely a year or so after breaking his heart, she had gotten involved with someone else and created a child with him.
Well, good for her.
“Another thing,” Marshall began, “she looked like she’d been hurt. Was wearing a sling, had a bandage on her forehead. I guess she may have fallen or something.”
“Hmm,” was Nigel’s reply, a noncommittal response. But curiosity was stirring in his gut, even though he didn’t want it to.
“You gonna call her up?” Marshall asked.
“Call her?” Nigel guffawed. “Why?”
“To say hi. It’s been what, ten years?”
But the look on Marshall’s face made it clear that he was simply stirring up trouble. Nigel wondered why his best friend was goading him like this. Marshall knew how brokenhearted he had been after Callie had left town without so much as a glance backward. The last thing Nigel wanted to do now was see her, even if he was over her.
He had already paid his respects to Dave Henry and other family regarding Jean’s passing. Thankfully, he hadn’t run into Callie at the time.
“Back to the murder case at hand, my friend,” Nigel said, turning to his computer. “Because we’ve got a job to do.”
* * *
Callie awoke with a start, her eyes popping open. She was surprised to see daylight pouring into the room. It seemed as if she had only gone to bed a short while before, and that the night had whizzed by.
And though she’d clearly slept like a log, she didn’t feel well rested. Her mind had been on Nigel before she’d fallen asleep, she had even dreamed of him.
She was anxious, the plight before her weighing on her mind.
Easing her body across the bed, she reached for her phone on the night table with her good arm and checked the time. It was six fifty-two in the morning.
Then she glanced across the room to where the daybed was. Kwame, who had also been exhausted from an early start and hours of activity yesterday, lay on his stomach, his form still. He was sleeping, which didn’t surprise Callie.
Quietly, she rose from the bed and exited the room. It was quiet. Perhaps no one had woken up yet.
After using the bathroom, Callie made her way downstairs. As she neared the kitchen, she finally heard soft voices. And when she rounded the corner, she saw Natalie and Uncle Dave sitting at the small, round table.
“Morning,” Callie said, then yawned. She wrapped an arm around her uncle, gave him a warm hug. Then she did the same to Natalie.
“I made tea,” Natalie said. “But if you want coffee, I can brew a pot.”
“I can do it,” Callie said.
Natalie stood. “With one good arm? Sit. Let me get you some coffee.”
Callie didn’t argue. She sat at the table beside Uncle Dave. “How are you feeling today?” she asked him.
“I keep expecting Jean to walk into this kitchen and start fussing about what she’s going to prepare.” Uncle Dave sighed. “I’m just trying to hang in there.”
Reaching across the table, Callie squeezed his hand. There were no words. She could only provide comfort.
Callie turned toward Natalie, who had spent much of the day before inconsolable. “How are you doing today?”
“Better. Definitely better.”
Natalie didn’t face her as she filled the coffee carafe with water from the sink, and Callie knew this wasn’t a good time to ask her about her husband. There would be time for that later.
“Hey, you remember Marshall, Nigel’s friend?” Natalie asked as she began to pour the water into the coffeemaker.
“Yeah,” Callie said. “Sure I do.”
“I saw him yesterday at the church.”
“Marshall was at the church?”
“Yeah. You must have just missed him, because I ran into him when I was heading down to the basement to use the bathroom. There he was, exiting the men’s room, what a surprise. He’d come to pay his respects, of course, which was nice, though he said he didn’t have much time because he was heading to an appointment. He knew Auntie Jean from her volunteer work in the community.” Natalie paused. “He mentioned Nigel. Said both of them are detectives now.”
Callie felt a spasm of alarm. If Marshall had been at the church, and at the time that Natalie said, then he could have very well seen her. And if he had seen her, he would’ve seen her with Kwame. Wasn’t it likely that he would tell Nigel about having seen her with a young boy?
“Uncle Dave, do you know if Nigel’s family still lives at the same house where he did before?” They would be able to tell her how to find Nigel.
“Actually, Nigel lives there now,” her uncle answered. “Ever since his father moved south, Nigel’s been back there. He spent a lot of time renovating his parents’ old house. I hear it’s lovely.”
If Nigel lived in his parents’ old house, that meant he was only two blocks away.
“Good.” Callie emitted a shaky breath. “I need to see him.”
“Need to see who?”
At the sound of the voice, Callie looked toward the entrance to the kitchen and saw Deanna entering. She was wearing black silk pajamas and a pair of white slippers.
“Nigel,” Callie said, then swallowed. “I need to see Nigel.”
“Why?” Deanna asked.
“Because I…I need to have an important conversation with him and I need to have it before anyone else does.” Though it could already be too late.
Both of her sisters looked at her with concern. Callie knew they were curious, but she was suddenly anxious. She had to speak to Nigel before Marshall mentioned anything to him. Not that Nigel would necessarily put two and two together, but Natalie’s news was a sign that Callie needed to get on with this sooner rather than later.
“Callie?” Natalie prompted in a cautious tone.
Callie knew that what she was about to say would be a bombshell. She hadn’t trusted her sisters with the truth at the time because all they’d been doing then was arguing with each other. Somehow, she had come to believe that there’d be no harm in keeping the secret from them.
Same as she’d kept it from Nigel.
