“And now you’re what, bosom buddies?”
“Thank you, Tom Hanks. No, we’re friends who are getting to know one another better, like any other people who meet each other.”
“Is this romantic?”
I snort. “Seriously?” I recall the man who’s become the one person I think understands me right now. This hit him harder, physically and emotionally. We’re ki
ndred spirits now.
“Yes. It’d be easy to mistake an emotionally charged life altering situation like this for—”
“Let me stop you right there before you piss me off. Neither of us is in the market for romance, and if we were it’d be none of your business. I appreciate your concern and that you feel this is your right as a big brother, but we both know I don’t need it. I’m thirty-five, Max. I’m not a little girl, and I can take care of myself.”
He tosses me a black look. “I’m always going to worry.”
“I didn’t tell you to stop. I’m telling you it’s not needed and there are clear boundaries. When and if I decide to date, I’ll introduce him at the time I choose and not a minute before. I’m so single it’s not even funny, so you can let your big brother Spidey senses recalibrate and go into hibernation.”
He laughs. “You always had a way with words. I still think you should try your hand at writing.”
“My dance card is full, thanks. How about we not make this visit all about me? Are you dating?”
“No time, sis. It would take one hell of a woman to be able to deal with my schedule. It’s easier to not get too serious. It keeps everyone involved from getting hurt or being disappointed.” I can hear a strange sadness in his voice.
Narrowing my eyes, I study him closer. “Did something happen, Max?”
He shook his head. “Nothing new. I know you all think I’m the ultimate playboy. But what I love to do isn’t conducive to what most people envision when they dream of getting married and starting a family. We all sacrifice to have things, and I’m no different.”
With the mask of happiness lowered, I see my brother in a new light. I place my hand on his arm. “We’ve all got someone out there waiting to find us or be found.”
“You still believe that?” he asks.
“I do. I’ve seen it too many times,” I say, thinking of Efia and Edgar. At her lowest, while she battled Alopecia, she met the love of her life.
“Maybe you’re right, kid.”
“Enough Hallmark moments. Let’s do a horror marathon the way we used to.”
“You order the pizza, I’ll get the popcorn and pick the movies?” he asks.
“Since you’re my guest, I’ll let you pick this time.”
“So generous,” he replies dryly.
I laugh, feeling more like myself than I have in weeks. We fall back into our familiar rhythm, and in the next thirty minutes, we’re parked on the couch watching Aliens as we stuff our face with the double pepperoni.
This is exactly what I need more of.
LEANING AGAINST THE wall, I place my hands on my lap as I wait for Detective Kunes to meet me in the lobby. One plus side to my nightmares is the additional information I’ve managed to glean. I want these guys off the street and behind a jail cell. They’ve turned my life upside down. The least I can do is try to return the favor in some way. I close my eyes and try to hold their features in my mind. It’s been almost a month since the robbery.
That’s been weeks of seeing their faces behind my eyelids every time I sleep. With each night the visions have become clearer and clearer, clinging to me as I wake instead of fading away like normal dreams. From the scruff on his chin to a distinctive scar that ran down the side of the leader’s face. I have no doubt I can describe them in great detail. However, I worry that they’ve been watching me.
It’s what made me take the long way to the station, park two streets up, and walk here. I’ve never seen anyone strange around my house, but I swear I feel eyes on me. I’m overly suspicious. It’s a natural response given what happened. Maybe if I tell myself that enough, I’ll begin to believe it. I stand as the tall, lean, white-haired man with a weathered face and electric blue eyes walks toward me.
I like Detective Kunes. He’s a straight shooter, who knows what he’s doing and seems to really care about his job. In his late forties, he still has plenty of passion and enough experience to get things done.
“Ms. Fleming.” He holds his hand out, and we shake.
“Detective Kunes.”