Page 77 of Roughing
Who’s talking about love?
Briggs had been.
But did he mean it, or were his hasty words a slip of the tongue? Maybe he misspoke. In the emotion of the moment, he thought he loved me. Now that he had time to think about it, he’d realize differently. He probably already had. That’s why I hadn’t heard from him.
The reason you haven’t heard from him is becauseyoutold him not to contact you.
I was so fucking confused. And lonely. And sad. I hadn’t been this sad when I’d broken up with Gordon. Scared, yes. Angry, yes. Sad, not really. Not for the death of our relationship, anyway.
“I know it’s none of my business, but I thought you guys were good together.”
“You did?” I was flabbergasted, to be honest. When it came to my relationships with men, they’d all been so toxic that none of my friends or family had ever approved of them. In fact, I’d kept Briggs a secret from my family for that very reason. I searched my recent memory and couldn’t recall Everly or Leila discouraging my relationship with Briggs. That would be a first.
Had I been mistaken? Had I assumed, with my track record, that Briggs had to be bad for me? Maybe the angry asshole version of Briggs had been bad for me, but this version?
My cynical side pointed out that he might revert back to asshole Briggs once he was more secure in his future with me and the team. But deep down, I wanted to believe the change was permanent.
“Of course. Everyone did. You’ve been good for him.”
“He’s been good for me,” I admitted and paused to consider the words I’d blurted without thinking. Briggs had been good for me. He’d supported my job and been more than happy to tag along on surveillance. He’d been encouraging and kind. Most of all, serious Briggs had a lighter side that was surprisingly fun to be around. Then there was the sex. That’d never been a problem between us.
“You love him. Give him another chance.”
“I don’t know if I do or not.”
“Oh, you do.” Aspen beamed at me as if she knew better than I did.
“But you didn’t come here to talk to me about that.” I deftly changed the subject.
“Actually, I did, but I do have another purpose too.”
“Can I help you with something?”
“I need help finding my mother. I thought Desmond might have confessed to being responsible for her disappearance, but he didn’t.”
“I was hoping he would’ve. Carla is out of the office right now, but I can take down all the pertinent information, and she’ll get back to you today.”
For the next hour, I made notes on my laptop of every detail Aspen relayed. She left me with a thumb drive of digital copies of evidence gathered, along with other clues and info she had on paper.
I walked her to the door and gave her a hug. “We’ll do the best we can.”
“I know. That’s why I came here.”
“Take care.” I waved as she got into her car and waved back. A half hour later, I was researching Aspen’s mother’s case via Google for any obscure tidbit that might be online, social media, chats, wherever. Carla came back, and I filled her in.
“Shall we get on this right away?” I asked, expecting her to assign tasks and jump right in.
“Not yet. We’ll start tomorrow. A one-day delay won’t hurt this cold case.”
“Okay.” Carla’s remark stunned me. She usually dived into a case with both feet and full steam ahead.
“I have something for you first.” She pulled an envelope out of her overstuffed, suitcase-sized handbag and gave it to me.Clue Onewas scrawled across the front in her familiar handwriting.
“What is this?” I stared at the envelope in confusion. Now wasn’t the time to be playing a murder mystery game.
“It’s a little test I like to give detectives, keeps them on their toes and helps them evaluate their ability to follow the clues and decipher the evidence.”
“I’m only an assistant.”
