Page 21 of Hard Heart

I screwed my eyes shut and made a Christmas wish—please let next year be better than this one.

“There’s no Tylenol, but I have willow bark tea,” Heidi said with a note of apology in her tone.

“What the hell is that?”

“Uh, tea made from willow bark?”

“That part is obvious. What I meant is, why would I want to drink it?”

“Mom said it contains salicin, which is like aspirin. It’ll help you feel better.” Heidi set the steaming mug on the nightstand beside me. “Hydration is important.”

The tea was sweetened with honey, but even then, I could still taste the bitterness. It matched my soul. I was beginning to develop a newfound appreciation for Big Pharma.

“I need more sleep,” I mumbled.

“No, you need fresh air. If you lie in bed all day, you’ll feel even worse.”

“Knowing my luck, I’d probably trip over a tree root and break an ankle.”

“If I can dance in heels every night, you can walk along a reasonably flat path. And besides, I have a plan.”

There was something about the way she said that… “Why do I get the feeling I won’t like it?”

“Because you’re a raging pessimist.”

Grudgingly, I had to admit she wasn’t the only person in my life who’d voiced that opinion. My parents, Margaret, Lloyd… They all thought I was too negative.

“I prefer to think of myself as a realist.”

“Here’s a challenge for you—for the next year, think positive. If you believe you can, then you will.” Heidi dropped onto her futon and sat cross-legged. “I believe that someday, a hot, rich guy will come along and sweep me off my feet. I just have to keep dancing.”

“Are there many hot, rich guys frequenting Jackson’s?”

“Like, two of them. And okay, they’re both married, but if they keep visiting strip clubs, they’ll wind up divorced eventually, so…”

I reached across and took both of her hands in mine. “Please, promise me you’ll set your sights higher than a lecherous sleaze. You deserve so much better.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Promise me.”

“Only if you agree to give optimism a try.”

“Fine.”

Heidi’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “Great! Let’s go for a lovely walk in the forest, and afterward, we can visit Blackstone House.”

Wait. Did she just play me?

“What? Blackstone House?”

“It’s a half-hour drive, and the weed will be out of your system by mid-afternoon.”

“Your ankle’s injured,” I tried.

“I have willow bark tea and a compression bandage. Don’t be such a pessimist.”

A part of me wanted to roll over and cocoon myself in the handmade-from-recycled-materials quilt, but the bigger part of me burned with curiosity. We were so close to the scene of the crime. It wouldn’t hurt to take a little side trip, would it? I was losing hope that Sykes would write back to me, but I still couldn’t get Costello’s murder off my mind. I was beginning to think there was something in Heidi’s podcast idea, after I’d finished with the bar exam, of course.