For You (The 'Burg #1)(114)

“Patty Melt Mystery Dinner it is,” she cut into his thoughts after she stopped laughing. “Six o’clock. Shit!” she said suddenly, he heard the phone jostle and her far away shout. “Yeah, I’m up! Be out in a sec.” Then she came back to him. “That’s Dad, he says he wants to be briefed as to why Chip’s here.” She laughed softly again before saying, “Colt, babe, he actually used the word briefed.” Colt laughed with her the second time before she finished hurriedly and distractedly. “Better go brief Dad. See you later, love you, babe.”

Colt froze and just managed to force out a “Later, baby,” before Feb disconnected.

See you later, love you, babe.

That was how she would end every phone conversation they had which were daily when she wasn’t up visiting on a weekend when she was at home and he was at Purdue.

See you later, love you, babe.

He knew she’d been preoccupied when she said it, slipping back into a very old habit.

He also didn’t f**king care.

He flipped his phone shut, shoved it in his back jeans pocket, grabbed his muffin and entered the Station smiling.

* * * * *

The phone on his desk rang; Colt picked it up, put it to his ear, looked at the name on the display on the desk set and said into the handset, “What’s up, Kath?”

“Colt, Amy Harris’s folks just walked in. I put them in the conference room.”

Fuck.

He knew they’d arrived yesterday from Arizona to start making arrangements for the funeral. Yesterday, with Colt mostly out of commission, Sully had dealt with them, making an appointment for them to come and talk with Colt today at two o’clock.

Now it was today and it was f**king two o’clock.

“Do me a favor, ask them if they want coffee, get it for them if they do and I’ll be down in a minute.”

“No probs, Colt,” she said and he put the phone down.

Kath was a civilian and she worked the front desk. She had a dickhead of a husband and five kids, all of them heathens. She did her best but, the Dad they had, her kids acted out anyway, as often as they could and they were creative. When they advertised the job for the front desk, she applied for it, telling them it was a way to spend some time with her family since all of them, including her husband, sat in a cell on more than a rare occasion. They gave her the job, mostly because she was a good woman, dependable, smart and, not including her husband, her family was a good family, deep down. They just had a lot of shit to get out and, until Kath grew a backbone and kicked her husband out on his ass, she needed all the help she could get.

Colt stood, pulled his blazer from his chair and shrugged it on. He was about to turn to the stairs when Sully walked up.

“Candy Sheckle’s on her way in,” Sully told him.

Colt’s brows went up. “Of her own accord?”

“She had a shift at the club last night, just turned her phone on and, minute the Feds asked, she said she’d drop her kid off at her Mom’s and be right in.”

“That’s helpful,” Colt remarked, surprised.

“Super duper helpful,” Sully returned, equally surprised.

“That’ll be an interesting interview.”

Sully smiled. “Can’t f**kin’ wait. You gonna watch?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“See you there, I’ll bring the popcorn.”

Colt shook his head and went to the stairs.

The minute he saw Mr. and Mrs. Harris, seated but huddling together in the conference room, he knew why Craig had to carry Amy into the house, not to mention why Amy was petite. Her parents were both small. He didn’t recall either of them but, if they were as quiet and reserved as their daughter, he doubted he ever saw them but in passing and probably wouldn’t notice them.

“They didn’t want coffee, Colt. The Mom drinks tea. You want me to run down to Mimi’s?” Kath asked as he passed.

“You’d do that, it’d be appreciated,” Colt replied, not taking his eyes from the Harrises.

“No trouble,” Kath said and took off.

Mr. Harris caught his gaze while Colt made his way to the conference room. This would be difficult for more than the normal reasons. He had no intention of sharing. They didn’t need to know their daughter went through what she went through. Still, he knew it and knowing it meant this was going to be far from easy.

He opened the door, Mrs. Harris twisted and looked up at him and Colt nodded to the both of them.

“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Harris. Mr. Harris.”

Mr. Harris stood, reaching out and taking a big, yellow envelope from the table.

Without leading into it, he asked, “Can we talk privately, son?”

Colt looked at the envelope then to Mr. Harris who looked like hell then to Mrs. Harris who surprised him. She was gazing at him steady, straight in the eye. She looked sad but she also looked thoughtful and there was a softness to her eyes that Colt thought looked immensely kind.

Colt knew then that this was going to be more than an interview with grieving parents to ascertain if their daughter did, indeed, commit suicide so that he could file away her case, nice, neat and cozy.

This was going to be something he was going to like a lot less even than he expected. And he expected to f**king hate every second.

“This room is private, Mr. Harris. No one can –” Colt started.