denial.”
“If you need the name of a juvenile counselor, I’ve got a couple of good ones.”
“I’m thinking that’s not a bad idea.”
She nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow with the names. Any word from the ME on Brad’s report?”
“We’re still waiting, but I’m expecting a call anytime. Detective Lacey from the Nashville PD phoned yesterday and said Eden had to work all weekend because of some extra stuff that came up.”
“He didn’t say what?”
“No, and it’s driving me crazy.” He gestured to the pot. “I made some chili, if I could persuade you to join us.”
“I don’t want to intrude—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I made way too much, and besides . . . I like having you here.” A small smile curved his lips, and her stomach fluttered.
“In that case, I’d love to.”
“Drew, dinner’s ready,” he called. Obviously worried, he stared at the doorway until the boy came in. Then he visibly relaxed some. “Would you set the table, please?”
The teen rolled his eyes but did as he was told. None too gracefully, though. He yanked three bowls and three small plates from the cabinet, then let the door slam shut. Ignoring Shane’s stern frown, he slapped the dishware on the table, then went for the spoons with a noisy rattle.
“Attitude check, kiddo.”
“Whatever.”
Daisy could feel the tension between the two of them just about shoot through the roof. She felt sorry for them both, and could identify with each of them as well. They both looked haggard, dark circles under their eyes from little sleep. Shane hadn’t shaved, apparently, since she’d seen him last, and his mouth was lined with fatigue. He carried a platter of cornbread to the table and practically collapsed in his chair.
“Let’s eat,” he said.
They sat, grabbing pieces of cornbread, and Shane served the thick, delicious-smelling chili. Daisy and Shane dug in, but Drew mostly picked at his. After taking a few bites of cornbread and not much more than that of his chili, he carried his plate and bowl to the sink.
“I wish you’d eat a little more—”
“I’m full. Check ya later.”
After the boy left, Shane’s shoulders slumped. “I’m at a total loss with him. We usually get along great, and now it’s like we’re strangers.”
“Give him time,” she said softly. “It’s been only three days.”
“I know. I just—” The doorbell interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. “Hold that thought.”
Daisy remained where she was, figuring he didn’t need her hovering over his guests. She was about to take another bite of her dinner when she heard him say hello, and two very familiar voices drifted her way.
Chris and Taylor were here.
Shoving to her feet, she hurried into the living room, where the men were standing. Her colleagues glanced her way and didn’t razz her good-naturedly for being at Shane’s house, as she’d thought they might. Instead their faces remained grim, and her pulse tripped. That could mean only one thing.
“We have some news about the autopsy results,” Chris said, glancing around. “Where’s Drew?”
“In his room, most likely.” Shane sighed. “That’s where he stays most of the time. Hang on, why are
you
guys here about the results of Brad’s autopsy?”
“Because Detective Lacey gave us a call and figured it would be best if we talked to you in person,” Shane’s cousin replied.
Taylor spoke up. “It appears we might have some crossover on our cases.”
Shane glanced back and forth between his friends, frowning. “So, Brad’s test results warrant opening a case? How so?”
Chris gestured to the sofa. “Let’s sit and we’ll run through what Lacey told us.” Once they were seated, he went on, bracing his elbows on his knees. “This isn’t going to be easy for you to hear, cuz, so I’ll give it to you straight. Brad died as the result of an adverse reaction to a designer drug.”
Shane’s face paled. “A-a
“If you need the name of a juvenile counselor, I’ve got a couple of good ones.”
“I’m thinking that’s not a bad idea.”
She nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow with the names. Any word from the ME on Brad’s report?”
“We’re still waiting, but I’m expecting a call anytime. Detective Lacey from the Nashville PD phoned yesterday and said Eden had to work all weekend because of some extra stuff that came up.”
“He didn’t say what?”
“No, and it’s driving me crazy.” He gestured to the pot. “I made some chili, if I could persuade you to join us.”
“I don’t want to intrude—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I made way too much, and besides . . . I like having you here.” A small smile curved his lips, and her stomach fluttered.
“In that case, I’d love to.”
“Drew, dinner’s ready,” he called. Obviously worried, he stared at the doorway until the boy came in. Then he visibly relaxed some. “Would you set the table, please?”
The teen rolled his eyes but did as he was told. None too gracefully, though. He yanked three bowls and three small plates from the cabinet, then let the door slam shut. Ignoring Shane’s stern frown, he slapped the dishware on the table, then went for the spoons with a noisy rattle.
“Attitude check, kiddo.”
“Whatever.”
Daisy could feel the tension between the two of them just about shoot through the roof. She felt sorry for them both, and could identify with each of them as well. They both looked haggard, dark circles under their eyes from little sleep. Shane hadn’t shaved, apparently, since she’d seen him last, and his mouth was lined with fatigue. He carried a platter of cornbread to the table and practically collapsed in his chair.
“Let’s eat,” he said.
They sat, grabbing pieces of cornbread, and Shane served the thick, delicious-smelling chili. Daisy and Shane dug in, but Drew mostly picked at his. After taking a few bites of cornbread and not much more than that of his chili, he carried his plate and bowl to the sink.
“I wish you’d eat a little more—”
“I’m full. Check ya later.”
After the boy left, Shane’s shoulders slumped. “I’m at a total loss with him. We usually get along great, and now it’s like we’re strangers.”
“Give him time,” she said softly. “It’s been only three days.”
“I know. I just—” The doorbell interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. “Hold that thought.”
Daisy remained where she was, figuring he didn’t need her hovering over his guests. She was about to take another bite of her dinner when she heard him say hello, and two very familiar voices drifted her way.
Chris and Taylor were here.
Shoving to her feet, she hurried into the living room, where the men were standing. Her colleagues glanced her way and didn’t razz her good-naturedly for being at Shane’s house, as she’d thought they might. Instead their faces remained grim, and her pulse tripped. That could mean only one thing.
“We have some news about the autopsy results,” Chris said, glancing around. “Where’s Drew?”
“In his room, most likely.” Shane sighed. “That’s where he stays most of the time. Hang on, why are
you
guys here about the results of Brad’s autopsy?”
“Because Detective Lacey gave us a call and figured it would be best if we talked to you in person,” Shane’s cousin replied.
Taylor spoke up. “It appears we might have some crossover on our cases.”
Shane glanced back and forth between his friends, frowning. “So, Brad’s test results warrant opening a case? How so?”
Chris gestured to the sofa. “Let’s sit and we’ll run through what Lacey told us.” Once they were seated, he went on, bracing his elbows on his knees. “This isn’t going to be easy for you to hear, cuz, so I’ll give it to you straight. Brad died as the result of an adverse reaction to a designer drug.”
Shane’s face paled. “A-a
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