and they let me go, but I overheard the police chief say he was going to keep an eye on me. He’s acting like Brook was murdered.”
“But you haven’t been charged, right?” Hedy didn’t understand that everyone connected to the pageant would be questioned, even if the death was determined to be an accident. Hedy’s strange behavior, the way she’d stood reaching out to a burning woman, had likely put her at the top of the list.
“Not yet. But I can’t be charged. I can’t have the cops poking into my past.”
Hedy was the candidate without a Facebook page or an Internet presence. She’d listed no performance credits, not even where she’d learned to play the violin. What was she cloaking? “My advice is to calm down and see what happens. There were hundreds of witnesses who saw Brook set herself on fire. As awful as that is, I don’t think anyone is to blame.”
“I can’t calm down. I can’t afford to wait. Will you help me or not?”
“Hold on a minute.” I covered the phone and met Tinkie’s curious gaze. I filled her in on Hedy’s request.
“Let’s take the case,” she said. “We can write off this whole vacation as a business expense.” She caught a glimpse of my face, though I’d tried to control my expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not certain I want to continue as a private investigator.” I sure hadn’t meant to tell her this way. I hadn’t even thought it through myself.
If I’d slapped her, I couldn’t have stunned her more. She bit her bottom lip. It popped free of her teeth in a way that weakened the most well-armored men. “What are you saying?” she finally asked. “You’re quitting the agency?”
“Now isn’t the time for this discussion.” My hand still covered the phone. I’d greatly upset my friend. Tears glittered in her eyes.
“This can’t wait.” She got up and took the phone from my hand. “Hedy, we’re going to discuss this and call you back tomorrow.” She took down the phone number. When she finished, she replaced the receiver and climbed on the bed across from me. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
The truth was, I
hadn’t
thought. At all. I’d simply spoken, a habit that had gotten me into hot water more than once. Now, I didn’t know what I felt but I’d pried the lid off a can of worms and they were out and crawling. “I don’t know what I want to do,” I said.
“But you’ve thought about quitting and you never mentioned it to me?”
“Tinkie, I don’t know.” Frustration—at myself, not her—laced my voice. These two days in Greenwood were the first time I’d felt alive in weeks. It was like my body was awakening, little by little. Along with the tinglings of joy came jolts of pain.
“I’m not angry,” Tinkie said softly. “But I need to know where you are, Sarah Booth. I know you’ll be spending a lot of time in Hollywood and on location with Graf and with your career, but I always thought we’d continue with the P.I. agency when you were home. I don’t want to let it go.”
“If I hadn’t been working on a case, my baby would be alive.” There it was. The guilt gnawing at me in the darkness of my subconscious had finally strode into the light of day.
I thought Tinkie would deny it, but she didn’t. Her hand gently rubbed my back. “What can I say to make it better?”
How like her to do the perfect thing. Rationalization of guilt never works. Nor did she try to coddle me out of myfeelings. My wise friend simply wanted to help and she was asking how.
“Maybe this feeling will fade,” I said, helpless to control the depression that so easily slipped around me.
“It probably will,” she said, kneading the tight spot between my shoulder blades. “Until it does, though, I’m here for you. No one judges you as harshly as you judge yourself, Sarah Booth. I could play psychologist and ask you, ‘If Coleman were injured in the line of duty, would you blame him?’ But that won’t help you
“But you haven’t been charged, right?” Hedy didn’t understand that everyone connected to the pageant would be questioned, even if the death was determined to be an accident. Hedy’s strange behavior, the way she’d stood reaching out to a burning woman, had likely put her at the top of the list.
“Not yet. But I can’t be charged. I can’t have the cops poking into my past.”
Hedy was the candidate without a Facebook page or an Internet presence. She’d listed no performance credits, not even where she’d learned to play the violin. What was she cloaking? “My advice is to calm down and see what happens. There were hundreds of witnesses who saw Brook set herself on fire. As awful as that is, I don’t think anyone is to blame.”
“I can’t calm down. I can’t afford to wait. Will you help me or not?”
“Hold on a minute.” I covered the phone and met Tinkie’s curious gaze. I filled her in on Hedy’s request.
“Let’s take the case,” she said. “We can write off this whole vacation as a business expense.” She caught a glimpse of my face, though I’d tried to control my expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not certain I want to continue as a private investigator.” I sure hadn’t meant to tell her this way. I hadn’t even thought it through myself.
If I’d slapped her, I couldn’t have stunned her more. She bit her bottom lip. It popped free of her teeth in a way that weakened the most well-armored men. “What are you saying?” she finally asked. “You’re quitting the agency?”
“Now isn’t the time for this discussion.” My hand still covered the phone. I’d greatly upset my friend. Tears glittered in her eyes.
“This can’t wait.” She got up and took the phone from my hand. “Hedy, we’re going to discuss this and call you back tomorrow.” She took down the phone number. When she finished, she replaced the receiver and climbed on the bed across from me. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
The truth was, I
hadn’t
thought. At all. I’d simply spoken, a habit that had gotten me into hot water more than once. Now, I didn’t know what I felt but I’d pried the lid off a can of worms and they were out and crawling. “I don’t know what I want to do,” I said.
“But you’ve thought about quitting and you never mentioned it to me?”
“Tinkie, I don’t know.” Frustration—at myself, not her—laced my voice. These two days in Greenwood were the first time I’d felt alive in weeks. It was like my body was awakening, little by little. Along with the tinglings of joy came jolts of pain.
“I’m not angry,” Tinkie said softly. “But I need to know where you are, Sarah Booth. I know you’ll be spending a lot of time in Hollywood and on location with Graf and with your career, but I always thought we’d continue with the P.I. agency when you were home. I don’t want to let it go.”
“If I hadn’t been working on a case, my baby would be alive.” There it was. The guilt gnawing at me in the darkness of my subconscious had finally strode into the light of day.
I thought Tinkie would deny it, but she didn’t. Her hand gently rubbed my back. “What can I say to make it better?”
How like her to do the perfect thing. Rationalization of guilt never works. Nor did she try to coddle me out of myfeelings. My wise friend simply wanted to help and she was asking how.
“Maybe this feeling will fade,” I said, helpless to control the depression that so easily slipped around me.
“It probably will,” she said, kneading the tight spot between my shoulder blades. “Until it does, though, I’m here for you. No one judges you as harshly as you judge yourself, Sarah Booth. I could play psychologist and ask you, ‘If Coleman were injured in the line of duty, would you blame him?’ But that won’t help you
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