Page 265 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

She closed the distance between them and set the glass on the blotter, staring at the pictures from the Little Girl Lost case arranged in neat rows—the pink blanket she had yet to feel, the locket she hadn’t seen in weeks, a small pine jewelry box, her mother’s paintbrushes and paintings… “What are you doing with these?” she asked, moving to stand between the V of his legs and stroke her fingers through his hair.

He rested his forehead against her chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Just giving everything another once-over,” he said, muffled by her shirt.

Her brow furrowed as she settled her cheek on top of his head, worrying about him. “How about a shower and bed? I can bring you something to eat.”

“I’m fine.”

She drew away, shaking her head. “No, you’re not. You need to sleep.”

He captured her hands, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “I’m okay.”

Instead of arguing, she took a seat on his thigh and hooked her arm around the back of his shoulders, keeping him close as she stared at the pictures on the desk.

“I can put this stuff away.”

She shook her head, lifting the photo of the portrait her mother had painted of Callie when she’d been a little girl. “I like this one—to see a snapshot of what I looked like through her eyes.” She touched the child’s cheek. “I don’t know what my mother’s shampoo smelled like or what her voice sounded like—or her laugh—but her paintings are a glimpse of what she saw.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m learning to accept it—that this is probably all I’ll ever have of her.” She set the picture down and looked into Nate’s tired eyes. “I just wish I had a memory.”

He nodded his understanding.

“She took me to parks and museums—to islands and small-town parades. I want so badly to remember something. Any tiny detail.”

He pressed a kiss to her neck. “I’m sorry, Callie.”

“It’s easier now.” She stroked his skin, smiling at him. “I have you and we have so many wonderful things to look forward to: Thanksgiving and your family coming to town.” She kissed him. “I can’t wait to meet your parents tomorrow and help out with baking some of the pies since Molly has her hands full with desserts for the entire town.”

He smiled. “It’ll be nice having everyone together.”

She nibbled her lip when his voice still lacked his usual enthusiasm. “Nate.” She kissed him. “Talk to me. Let me be your rock the way you are mine.”

He clenched his jaw, steaming out a long breath. “It’s Captain Bob. I’m still struggling a bit.”

She nodded. “It’s terrible. Tragic.”

“Yeah.”

She held his gaze, knowing Nate well enough to understand that he wasn’t telling her everything. “You’ve been spending a lot of time out at his shed.”

He nodded.

“And you’re looking at my case again.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s still a priority.”

It was her turn to nod. “You don’t think Captain Bob did it—broke our window or hurt my mother.”

Clenching his jaw, he started stacking the pictures. “I don’t know what I think. It all wraps up nice and neat. All of the pieces fit. Matthew gave me his opinion on the cause of death.”

“But it doesn’t fit for you.”

“I don’t think we should be talking about this.” He stood, bringing her to her feet with him. “I’m going to take a shower.” He left the room.

She hurried after him as he started down the hall. “Nate.”

He stopped, turning to look at her.