Touch of Red (Tracers #12)(62)

“I’m sorry you’re dealing with all this. Is there anything you two need? I can swing by the shelter.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Kaitlyn sounded taken off guard by the offer. “I think we’re good.”

“How’s your arm?”

“Fine,” she said, but Brooke caught something in her voice and wondered what the answer would have been if Cameron weren’t listening. It had to be painful for her to do her job with fresh stitches in her arm.

“Well . . . let me know if I can do anything. Do you guys need me to check on Fenway?”

“Yes!” Cameron yelled. “Can you bring him over?”

“No, she cannot bring him over, Cam. I told you, they don’t allow dogs.”

“Please, Mom?”

“No. . . . Sorry, Brooke? Don’t worry about Fenway. Our neighbor is taking care of him.”

“Okay, well . . . if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thanks. That’s nice of you to offer.”

“You guys take care.”

Brooke ended the call and analyzed the conversation as she drove home. She hated that they’d had such a miserable day. But Kaitlyn had mentioned nothing about a forensic artist, so maybe that wasn’t happening, which eased Brooke’s worry, as did their plans to spend another night at the shelter. The place had an armed guard and plenty of security. They couldn’t stay there forever, but at least Brooke knew they’d be safe tonight.

The tightness in Brooke’s shoulders started to loosen. She didn’t feel relaxed—not by a long shot—but she felt better as she swung by the grocery store and picked up some ingredients for dinner. By the time she made it home, she was looking forward to a restful evening.

Until she stepped through her door and confronted the mountain range of laundry in her living room. It had been weeks since she’d done any chores. Her entire house was in disarray, just like her personal life, and she couldn’t stand it another minute.

Brooke deposited her groceries on the counter and changed into yoga pants. She hauled four overflowing laundry baskets into the utility room and dumped them onto the floor, then sorted everything by category—towels, clothes, and delicates. She heaved a load into the machine and got it going.

Next, she poured herself a generous glass of wine and started chopping. Brooke didn’t cook often, but when she did, it relaxed her. Tonight was all about comfort food, and she was making one of her grandmother’s soup recipes. She cut up vegetables, letting her mind wander as she sliced and diced. She sipped her merlot and tried to unwind, but her thoughts kept going back to Sean.

Don’t compare me to him.

She’d hated the look on his face when he’d said that. And she’d hated the words, too, because he was right.

She tried to block out everything and focus on the task at hand as she sautéed onions and celery. She rinsed a batch of Roma tomatoes and started carving out the stems. The recipe made way too much for one person—maybe she’d take some over to Owen and Lin.

The doorbell rang, and Brooke’s hands froze.

Sean.

She grabbed a dish towel and wiped her fingers. Then she smoothed her hair before hurrying to the door. Her pulse pounded as she checked the peephole.

Not Sean, but Maddie.

“Hey, stranger,” Maddie said as Brooke let her inside. “I had to come check on you. You missed our coffee klatch.”

Brooke gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God, it’s Monday.”

“Yes, it is.”

Brooke had a weekly coffee date with her friends at Delphi.

“I totally forgot.” Brooke sighed and closed the door. “You want a glass of wine? Or a beer?” She led Maddie into the kitchen. “I’ve got Corona, but no lime.”

“Corona sounds good. And something smells incredible. What are you making?”

“Tomato bisque and grilled cheese. Can you stay for dinner?”

“Yum. Wish I could, but Brian’s bringing home steaks.”

Maddie took a stool at the counter while Brooke retrieved a beer from the fridge and popped off the top.

Out of all of Brooke’s girlfriends, Maddie was the easiest to talk to, especially lately. She was a newlywed, but she wasn’t all starry-eyed and gleefully playing house with her husband. This was a second go-round for her. Years ago, Maddie had lost a child and gone through a messy divorce. She tended to have a realistic, grounded outlook on life.

“Sorry about our coffee klatch.” Brooke set the Corona in front of Maddie. “I completely blanked. It’s been a crazy day. Two days, actually.”

She brought Maddie up to speed on everything, including the shooting, but omitting the part about seeing Sean afterward.

“Wow. Forget coffee. I’m surprised you didn’t call in sick today. You okay?”

“Pretty much. Mind if I chop while we talk?”

“Go ahead.”

“So, how are you doing?”

“Um, nice try, but we’re not done with you yet.” Maddie smiled. “How’s Sean?”

Brooke continued chopping, stalling for time. “How do you know about Sean?”

“I knew it! Alex owes me five dollars.”

Brooke stopped chopping. “You guys made a bet?”