Page 58 of The Gift
She took a breath before answering with a shaky, “Hey.”
The pause was long enough to register. “You sound jumpy.”
“You got that from ‘Hey’?”
“Yeah. What’s wrong?”
She leaned against the wall, glancing once more at the now-empty street. “Paranoia is setting in.”
He didn’t answer, so she tried again.
“It’s nothing. Another false alarm.”
“Start from the beginning.”
She smiled faintly. He wanted every detail, like with the others. “I thought someone was watching the Wilson house.”
“And?”
“It was a neighbor smoking. I’m wound too tight.”
“You’re right to be alert.”
“Am I right to feel silly?”
“You’re not silly. But you are supposed to hit the alarm.”
They’d had this discussion before. She’d really feel silly to have a police response to the two-pack-a-day retiree out for a smoke.
She could hear paper rustling on his end. Keyboard clicks. “You’re at the station late,” she said.
“Yeah. I’m buried.”
His voice carried a worn-thin gruffness that made her picture him rubbing the tension from his neck. Longing pulled at her. What she wouldn’t give to ease it for him.
“I wish you were here.”
“I want to be.”
The honesty settled a lot of her edginess.
“Tomorrow,” he added. “I’ll bring lunch.”
“You’re busy.”
“Don’t care.” Then, deeper— “I need to see you, darlin’.”
Convinced, she smiled into the dimness. “Lunch sounds good.”
“Dead bolts on? Alarm set?”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
He laughed softly. “I’ll be there around noon.”
When the line clicked off, the house felt quieter than before. But not as lonely.
***
