A Terrible Fall of Angels (Zaniel Havelock #1)(39)

“One of the people involved in the crime is a college kid,” I said, so that Lila didn’t have to figure out how much I’d shared or not shared with my wife.

“Victim or bad guy?” Reggie asked, but her anger seemed to be fading.

“Both,” I said.

“You mean this is all college-age kids?” she asked.

“Everyone’s young, or as old as they’re ever going to get,” Lila said, and she couldn’t hide the weariness in her voice. She might have been excited about the evidence she’d found, but something about the case was getting to her. It probably meant the parents had been nice. Sometimes it was harder when the family seems like good people, especially if you’re trying to tell them their son is suspected in the rape and murder of another college student.

“I didn’t know the victim or that everyone else involved was so young. I’m sorry you had to go see the parents.” And Reggie sounded more like herself.

“Never my favorite part of the job,” Lila said, and she sounded tired.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you with the parents, Lila,” I said.

“Hey, I took the new guy, MacGregor 2.0; he didn’t suck.”

“I’m glad he didn’t suck,” I said.

“I’m sorry that Zaniel couldn’t be there to help, too, Lila,” Reggie said.

“It’s okay, I just wish my wife had been willing to do counseling with me like you and Havoc are doing.”

“Are you saying that Annie refused to go to couples counseling with you?” Reggie asked.

“Yeah, I offered, but she said there was nothing wrong with her, she didn’t need therapy, and if I thought I needed it I should go to therapy, but couples therapy without the other half of your couple seemed sort of pointless.” Lila sounded about as unhappy as I’d ever heard her.

“That sounds awful,” Reggie said, her voice soft. The glasses hid most of her face, but she seemed more affected than I’d expected by Lila sharing.

“It’s okay, Reggie, I just want someone else to get the happily-ever-after I keep missing.” She sounded genuinely sad, which I knew she was about her divorce, but she was letting Reggie hear it in her voice on purpose. I didn’t know why, but I knew it was on purpose, because Lila could control her voice in an interrogation or undercover better than I could.

“Well, I don’t think we’re ready for happily-ever-after, but the counseling sessions are helpful,” Reggie said.

“I thought it was promising,” I said, fighting to keep my voice as neutral as hers.

“Promising is good,” Lila said on the phone, then added, “I’m taking all the paraphernalia we gathered at the house back to the precinct. I want you to see it before it goes to forensics. Neither I nor the new guy is that versed on this kind of occult.”

“I’ll meet you there,” I said.

“Okay, and good to talk to you, Reggie.”

“Good to talk to you, too, Lila.”

“See you back at home base, Havoc,” Lila said, then hung up.

Reggie looked down at the ground and sighed. I was almost able to ignore how it made the sweater move as she did it. I made sure I was meeting her eyes behind the black lenses when she looked up.

“I’m sorry, Zaniel, I don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s okay, Reggie, but I would never follow you to see what you’re doing. I would trust you to tell me if there was something I needed to know.”

“Oh, Zaniel,” she said, her voice soft and exasperated all at the same time, as if she couldn’t decide if she wanted to hug me or get mad at me again.

“What is wrong, Reggie? Why would you block my car in like this, like you’re trying to catch me out or something?” That made me ask, “Have you been following me around to see if I’m dating someone?”

“No, of course not,” she snapped that time, anger and that disdainful I-wouldn’t-stoop-so-low tone in her voice.

I was tired of feeling like I’d done something wrong when I hadn’t. “You accused me of doing it, why shouldn’t I ask you the same question?”

She opened her mouth to say something sharp and probably hurtful, but she stopped herself. She took a deep breath in and then slowly let it out as if she was counting. She was seriously angry, but I had no idea what about. It was like she was having a hugely different conversation inside her head than the one I was having with her. That wasn’t like Reggie; she was emotional, but not usually this confusing.

“You’re right, I started this, you have every right to throw it back at me. I am sorry for jumping to stupid conclusions. Too many people giving me bad advice from their divorces, I guess.”

“No one at work is telling me anything, except good luck with working it out.”

“That’s very mature for a bunch of cops.” And there was the disdain back in her voice, like she couldn’t help it.

“Well, at least the immature cops aren’t giving me bad advice that’s making me angry at you for things you haven’t even done, unlike your mature teacher friends.”

I expected her to be angry again, but she surprised me by saying, “You’re right, my friends haven’t been giving me very good advice.”