Page 42 of Wild Embers
When I knock on an unsuspecting person’s door, the last thing they think I’m going to do is tell them that their loved one died. I suddenly become a key character in the worst day of their life. Some people faint, some people blame me, and I don’t fight it. There’s no judging someone for how they react in moments like that.
Two days ago, Derek’s wife reported him missing, and now I have to tell her that he’s never coming home.
I force myself onto the iced pavement and through the steel gate. A lumpy snowman with a lop-sided smile in the yard stares at me as I pass by.
Raising my fist, my heart sinks, dreading what comes next. I rap three times on the metal of the screen door. When it opens, a short, thin woman with yellow hair stands there, wrapping a sweater around her frame.
“Afternoon, Julie,” I say with an even tone.
“Walk,” Julie greets back, like my presence brings good news, and she pushes the screen door open. “Do you have news about Derek?” Dark circles hang below her eyes.
“Can I come in?” I ask with an open hand.
She tilts her head, and I can see her mind working to understand what I’m doing here. “What happened? Did you find Derek?”
Releasing a tense exhale, I respond, “I think it’d be best if we talked inside.”
Her eyes widen as it clicks. “No.”
“Jules…” I reach for her.
She takes a step back, shaking her head in denial. “Tell me he’s okay, Walk. Tell me my husband is coming home,” she pleads.
My shoulders droop. “I’m sorry.”
Her tears fall, unbidden. “No.”
I rush forward as her knees give out and she begins to drop to the floor. Catching her around her shoulders, I hold her to me as she wails and screams. Her cries prick at my heart, making the weight on my shoulders feel even heavier, and the guilt feel suffocating.
I didn’t do my job.
I didn’t save him.
I didn’t protect him.
Coaxing Julie to the beige floral couch, I hand her tissues and offer to call someone for her. When she doesn’t reply, I tell her that I’m calling Tad Jensen, the Evergreen Falls fire chief, to come be with her. Everyone at the fire station are family to each other, and I know Julie doesn’t have any other family nearby.
After the quick call, I go to her kitchen. I search for a pot and quickly make us both a cup of tea. Returning to the living room, I offer her the plain green mug. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She grabs the warm ceramic cup from me and sips. “How did he die?”
I sit on the matching couch across from Julie. “We’re still investigating, but it looks to be foul play.”
“Someone murdered my husband?” She sets her tea on a coaster on the short coffee table between us.
“I’m afraid so,” I confirm, then set my own mug down as well. “I hate to do this, but I need to ask you some questions.”
Julie squares her shoulders. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”
I start the interview like I would any other. “Had Derek been acting strange lately?”
“No, not at all.” She shakes her head.
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees. “No change in behavior? Was he stressed about anything?”
“Quite the opposite. These last few months, he was happier.” Julie’s gaze moves to the window beside me, seeming to think back over the time frame in question.
“Did he talk about anyone threatening him?”
