Page 80 of The River We Remember

She put her hands over his, and he stared at them, at the nails that were clean and unpolished. He wanted to let go of the burden. He wanted to tell her about the terrible memories that the dark magic of Jimmy Quinn’s blown-open and chewed-on body had brought back to him and that he couldn’t shake from his thinking. He wanted to let her know how confused and scared he was.

“I could use a cup of coffee,” he said.

She brought it quickly and watched his hands tremble while he drank.

“Do you believe in ghosts, Angie?”

“I pretty much believe in the possibility of everything, Brody. It saves me a lot of needless fuss. Why?”

“I see them.”

He was staring into his coffee mug, but her fingers slipped beneath his chin and gently tilted his face upward so that he looked into her eyes.

“We all see them, Brody.”

She leaned across the counter and kissed his cheek as a mother might have.

“Connie quit me,” he said.

“Quit? You mean handed in his badge?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Says he needs to be out at Bluestone’s place, helping Bluestone’s wife with all that farmwork.”

“That’s awfully nice of him. But did he have to quit?”

“I insisted. Told him it wouldn’t look right.”

“I understand,” she said.

He’d been staring down again into the black of his coffee, but now, on his own, he raised his head and studied her face. He could see that she believed it, believed she understood his reasoning and was willing to accept it. She couldn’t possibly look into him and see all the way down into the cave of his heart.

“Have you had any lunch?” she asked.

“No.”

“Let me fix you something. I sent Scott over a while ago to the jailhouse with a cold pork roast sandwich for Noah Bluestone. How does that sound?”

“Good. Thanks.”

The door of the diner opened, and in walked Gordon Landis. He saw them together at the counter and took the stool next to Brody.

“It’s like a ghost town here today,” he said. “You two skip out on Ruth Coffee’s funeral?”

“We attended the service,” Angie answered. “We didn’t stay for the meal at the church afterward. Work to do. I didn’t see you there, Gordon.”

“Ruth Coffee nearly kept me from playing football in high school. Flunked me in her class. Told me Shakespeare was more important than carrying a pigskin.”

“You think she was wrong?” Angie said.

“Reading Shakespeare never helped me run down a suspect.”

Brody said, “Did you ever actually run down a suspect, Gordy?”

Landis ignored him and said, “How about a piece of your pecan pie, Angie, and maybe some coffee to go along with it?”