Page 24 of Forever Dead

“You can barely walk around a motel parking lot without that cane.”

“I broke my wrist and hurt my knee. I didn’t lose my brain.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“No, you just drove over here, told me someone important to me was murdered, gave me half the details of the case, and now you expect me to sit in that room and watch daytime television while everybody else works it.”

Connor rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Selena, that’s not fair.”

“Neither is this.”

She pushed the passenger door open.

“I’ll get it,” Connor offered.

“I can get out.”

Connor was already moving around the front of the SUV, but Selena had both feet on the pavement by the time he reached her. Pain shot through the knee as she stood too quickly. She refused to react.

Connor reached for her arm, and Selena stepped away before he could touch her.

“I’ve got it.”

The words felt uncomfortably familiar. There had been too many versions of them during their marriage, usually when she needed him most.

“Selena...”

She planted the cane and straightened. “If you need me, you know where I am.”

Connor stood beside the open passenger door. For a second he seemed ready to argue again. Instead, he glanced toward the motel building.

“I thought maybe I could drop by later and...”

“I’m watching a movie with Eric later.”

Connor’s mouth tightened. “Fine.”

Selena waited as he walked around to the driver’s side.

“See ya.”

“Yeah.”

Connor got in and started the engine. The SUV backed out slowly, turned near the motel entrance and headed toward the road.

Selena remained beside the parking space after he was gone. The anger lasted another few seconds before grief pushed through it.

Eleanor Marsh. Gone.

A woman who had taught countless children across decades. Who had once held a thirteen-year-old Selena in a school hallway while her life changed around her. Someone had entered her home, frightened her, broken her neck and left her beneath the remains of her own chair.

Selena stared toward the forest. As a child, she had believed the trees moved differently depending on the weather. On bright days, the upper branches had seemed to wave to her, inviting her deeper along trails she knew by memory.

The wind crossed the motel lot now. Gold leaves twisted free and drifted toward the ground.

The branches no longer seemed to be waving.

They seemed to be watching.