Midnight Exposure (Midnight #1)(18)

“Hey, I’m sorry, man,” Scott said. Mrs. Griffin worked two jobs, but she didn’t make much money.

“No. My bad. I’m kinda jumpy. We’re cool.” Brandon blinked hard. His gaze dropped to the backpack clenched in his hands. “But really, Hall’s OK. He lets Mom waitress at the diner a couple of shifts a week.”

“That’s great’cause I’m supposed to help out with the winter coat drive on Monday.” Not that Scott was thrilled with spending six hours at the Youth Center sorting used clothing, but this was senior year and his college applications were sorely lacking in community service. Mayor Hall had been cool about letting him jump into the Teen Community Service program midyear. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad. “You gonna do the clothing drive?” Scott asked.

“Yeah. I’ll be there. The storm should be over, and it sure as hell beats some of the other stuff I’ve had to do.” Brandon drifted a few feet away, heading toward the sidewalk that led to the town’s center a few blocks away. “I gotta go.”

“You want a ride?” Scott nodded toward his dad’s truck as it pulled up to the curb.

“No, thanks.” Brandon waved over his shoulder.

“See ya.” Scott opened the door of the Yukon and tossed his backpack over the seat. The mayor might have done him a favor, but he still didn’t envy his friend and all the hours Brandon had to spend with the guy.



Reed dished steaming lasagna onto two plates. At his feet, Sheba wagged her tail hopefully. “Scott, dinner’s ready.”

Reed scooped a cup of kibble into the dog’s bowl. Sheba pointedly ignored her food. “That’s all you’re getting.”

Her blue eyes said, “We’ll see.”

His son ambled in and slid onto a stool at the counter. Sheba planted herself under his chair, having identified Scott as the weak link five minutes after they rescued her from the animal shelter years ago.

“Are those college applications done?”

“Mostly.” Scott shoveled lasagna with speed and precision. Reed did not miss the noodle his son slipped to the dog.

“Mostly?”

Scott downed half a glass of milk. “Dad, I’ll get them done on time. Relax.”

Reed kept his nod silent. There was no changing his son’s basic personality. Scott would never feel any urgency or stress over schoolwork. So, moving on: “I have a question to ask you.”

His son looked up, a forkful of pasta hovering in front of his mouth. “’Kay.”

Reed let the statement out like he’d been holding his breath. “I stopped to see the chief today.”

Cheeks bulging with food, Scott nodded.

Reed searched his son’s eyes for any sign of distress. Mild curiosity blinked back at him. “He asked me to help with one of his cases.”

Scott swallowed. “Is it about the guy they found at the quarry?”

Surprised, Reed answered, “Yes, but please don’t tell anyone. Hugh wants to keep the whole thing quiet for now.”

“OK, but everybody at school knows they found him.” Scott put his fork down. “You’re gonna help him, right?”

“It’d be OK with you?”

“Sure. The chief wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” Scott pointed to the foil pan on the stove. “Is there more?”

“Uhm. Yes,” Reed answered in a confused fog. Scott was acting very nonchalant about the whole police-work issue.

“Cool.” Scott took his plate to the stove and filled it again. The discussion hadn’t affected his appetite.

Reed had expected his son to be upset at the thought of Reed helping Hugh, especially with a murder case. But Scott was no longer a grieving twelve-year-old. His son was a young man. How much did Scott even remember about the aftermath of his mother’s death? The media coverage had been vicious, but Reed had shielded him as much as possible.

On impulse, Reed blurted out, “I had coffee with that lady tourist this afternoon.”

“The same one that was here yesterday? The lost one?” Scott mumbled around a mouthful of lasagna.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Scott finished his second plateful, rose, and rinsed his dish at the sink. “Back to work.” He poured a second glass of milk and took it with him, along with an entire box of graham crackers. The dog followed him, casting a disdainful glance at her bowl on the way.

It hadn’t been easy, but Scott had learned to deal with his mother’s death. At least one of them had. Reed had been so busy helping Scott handle the grief, he hadn’t dealt with his own.

Reed stared at his dinner with no appetite. He covered his untouched plate with tinfoil and stowed it in the refrigerator. Maybe later. After more than five years in an emotional standstill, his life had received a jump start, all because a beautiful redhead had supposedly missed a turn.

Or had she?

Wait. He had no reason to doubt her. He’d been a cop too long. Not everyone had ulterior motives. If he was going to let go of the past, he was going to have to learn to trust people again. The article on R. S. Morgan she’d been reading didn’t mean a thing. It was last week’s issue of The New York Times. Plenty of people read it. The fact that she’d saved that section of the paper didn’t mean anything other than that she liked art.