Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(144)

He was relieved to get inside, where the wind wasn’t whipping at those tender pink ears, that exposed throat. He wanted to wrap his warm coat around her, but she’d never go for that in her current mood.

The odor of sawdust, plasterboard, polyurethane and paint tickled his nose. People gawked as they went by, but he was laser-beam focused on that elegant, upright back. Only Liv could wear a paint-spattered gray flannel frock and waffle stomper boots and still look somehow regal.

She led him through the refurbished and refitted café, and into a small back office. It was just a plasterboarded, taped-up cube, not yet spackled or painted. Liv went to the window and stared out, as if she could somehow see out of the thick plastic that was taped over the hole.

He looked around. A space heater blasted stale warm air over his ankles. A hot plate sat on a desk crowded with invoices. A mug, tea bag dangling out of it. A sleeping bag and pillow lay on a cheap couch.

“What the hell is this?” He looked at her, appalled. “Are you sleeping in here? Don’t you have a place of your own?”

“Sure, I have a place,” she said. “Sometimes I lose track of the time. I crash here if it’s late. Some nights I don’t have the nerve to…”

“To go out in the dark?” he finished.

She frowned. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

He swallowed hard. “You shouldn’t be here alone, Liv. Not ever.”

Her snort was eloquently derisive. “Well. Isn’t that just too bad.”

He reached to stroke that gleaming mass of hair. She sensed him moving in on her, and jerked away. “So?” she asked. “How are things?”

He was nonplussed. “Huh? What things?”

“You know. With your family. How is Erin? Margot?”

“Oh. Them. Fine,” he said, relieved to have a starting place. “Erin’s almost there. Few more weeks, and I’ll be an uncle. Connor’s out of his mind. Won’t leave her alone for a second. Drives her nuts.”

“Ah,” Liv murmured sourly. “Good for her.”

He pressed on. “And Margot, she’s good too. Starting to show. She felt the baby move last week. She called everybody, she was so excited.”

“That’s wonderful,” Liv whispered. “Are Miles and Cindy OK?”

“Fine. Miles’s hand and arm are all healed up. Cindy’s good, too. Teaching music in Seattle. Gigging a lot, cutting a new album with her band. She and Miles are a big item these days. Inseparable.”

“Oh. That’s lovely.” Her voice was bitter. “How very nice for them.”

Shit. Every damn thing he said underscored how furious she was.

“The last time I talked to your brothers, they mentioned that there was an investigation in progress,” she said. “To verify if Kevin was…”

“Buried up on the hill?” He said it for her. “No. It was Craig Alden’s body in that grave, not Kev’s. Dental records have confirmed it.”

That startled her so much, she actually turned, wide-eyed. “Oh, my goodness,” she whispered. “So you don’t know where Kev is buried?”

He shook his head. “Nobody left alive to ask. Craig was reinterred, in Tacoma, with his folks. But we left Kev’s headstone up on the hill.”

Her throat worked. “Do you think he could still be alive?”

“Fucked if I know.” His voice was raw. “I’ve done everything I can for him. All I can do is try to learn how to live my life…not knowing.”

“I see.” She turned her back. “Well. Good luck with that, Sean.”

He took a step closer, reached to touch her shoulder. “Liv—”

“No!” She wrenched away, huddling into the corner. “Don’t you dare touch me! Not after three goddamn months of shutting me out! Like I didn’t matter!”

“Not true,” he said. “I thought of nothing but you!”

“Then why?” she almost shrieked. “Why did you do that to me?”

He shook his head, groping for words to describe the hell of shrinking fear, the bottomless, airless pit of self-loathing. The words wouldn’t come. “I was…afraid. For you,” he started, lamely.

She gave him a narrow look. “Excuse me?”

“Stress flashbacks,” he blurted. “I guess that’s what they were. Hallucinations. Real horrific f*ckers. They were so real. You would walk into the room, and I would grab you and kiss you, and all of a sudden you were dead, and I was the one that had stabbed you, or shot you, or whatever. I was scared even to see you. Scared that I could still hurt you. I thought maybe Osterman had…that he could still…oh, shit.”

Her hands moved up to cover her mouth. “Oh, God. Sean.”

“I tried medicating it,” he plodded on. “It just seemed to get worse. I thought maybe I’d snapped, gone nuts, like Dad.”

“So you decided to do the hard thing?”

The cool tone in her voice made him wince. He was still in a world of hurt, with no end in sight. He clenched his teeth, and nodded.

“Of course. Expect me to understand,” Liv raged. “You had to be alone. You had to leave me alone. Wrong move, Sean!”

“Was it? What did you want me to say?” he broke in savagely. “Hey, babe, I’ve got this little bitty problem. I keep murdering you whenever I see you. Sounds like a real confidence builder, huh?”