between good intentions and the idle curiosity of a rumor monger gathering intel and a good head of steam. He had no time to sift through the merits of her intentions. Truth told, he preferred outright hostility, something he could deal with, like a beefy lineman hungry to humiliate a cocky young quarterback on a one-way ego trip.
“I suppose a second time doesn’t make it any easier,” Bernice went on. “How’s Susannah holding up?”
“Well, how would you—” He stopped and reigned in his attitude, then took a deep breath before he continued. “She’s doing the best she knows how.”
What the hell? Like a mother would ever get used to her daughter running away?
He knew she was fishing for the real dirt behind Nikki’s disappearance and pushing his buttons to get it, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. No one else needed to know the nightmare of his sister’s pain.
Even living in Alaska, where a guy’s idiosyncrasies were considered normal and his past was respected as private, most folks in Talkeetna went out of their way to speak their minds about him. And he’d brought the same attitude down on his sister by default. For some reason, both their lives were fair sport. And contrary to the norm, many folks had an opinion.
He’d gotten used to it, but Susannah had been an innocent bystander. She deserved better.
His own downward spiral had sucked his sister in—guilt by association—but he received the worst of it by far. To his face or behind his back, it didn’t matter. Most people openly looked upon him as a major disappointment—quite a fall from the celebrity they’d heaped on him not too long ago. Now, he was nothing more than a drunk, a brawler, and a failure. He could see it in their eyes—and his own when he looked in a mirror.
People saw what they wanted to see. He guessed he was no different.
But if Joe hadn’t come along today, he wasn’t sure how much help he’d be to Susannah. He’d worn out his welcome with the local law.
“You need to speak to Trooper Fitzgerald?” Bernice stuck to protocol with the formal title. Her question had been directed to Joe, but she kept her eyes on Payton.
“Yes, we do.” Joe nodded.
The woman glanced over her shoulder, then stood, her chair squeaking with the effort. From behind the plexiglass window, she stepped toward them and rested her elbows on the worn Formica countertop that separated the secured offices from the waiting area.
“He’s on the phone. No telling how long he’ll be.” She forced a smile. “I got some coffee brewing, fresh. Can I get you boys a cup while you wait?”
“Not for me.” Joe shook his head. “Thanks, Bernice.”
Payton did the same, mumbling a distracted reply under his breath.
“You almost missed him. He’s heading to Anchorage, but I’ll slip him a note to let him know you’re waiting. Just have a seat.”
After Bernice ducked behind a closed door, Payton glanced back toward the visitor chairs. With the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he couldn’t imagine sitting while the trooper got off the phone. His impatience had taken a firm grip.
Pacing the small room, he found his eyes unable to settle on any one thing. Flashes of Nikki’s face plagued him, along with erratic sound bites from their last conversations. He’d been so rapt in his own misery, he hadn’t spent much time with Susannah or Nikki; something else to fuel the fires of guilt.
“God, I hate this.”
Payton wasn’t sure he’d spoken aloud, but when he spotted Joe from the corner of his eye, he noticed his friend standing and watching him. Cool and rock steady as still water, Joe’s dark eyes never gave away his thoughts. Most days, Payton envied the man’s self-control. Yet there were other times he thought holding a mirror to Joe’s nose might tell him if the man actually breathed like normal people.
“Trooper Fitzgerald will see you now.” Bernice opened the door to let them come in.
By the time he
“I suppose a second time doesn’t make it any easier,” Bernice went on. “How’s Susannah holding up?”
“Well, how would you—” He stopped and reigned in his attitude, then took a deep breath before he continued. “She’s doing the best she knows how.”
What the hell? Like a mother would ever get used to her daughter running away?
He knew she was fishing for the real dirt behind Nikki’s disappearance and pushing his buttons to get it, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. No one else needed to know the nightmare of his sister’s pain.
Even living in Alaska, where a guy’s idiosyncrasies were considered normal and his past was respected as private, most folks in Talkeetna went out of their way to speak their minds about him. And he’d brought the same attitude down on his sister by default. For some reason, both their lives were fair sport. And contrary to the norm, many folks had an opinion.
He’d gotten used to it, but Susannah had been an innocent bystander. She deserved better.
His own downward spiral had sucked his sister in—guilt by association—but he received the worst of it by far. To his face or behind his back, it didn’t matter. Most people openly looked upon him as a major disappointment—quite a fall from the celebrity they’d heaped on him not too long ago. Now, he was nothing more than a drunk, a brawler, and a failure. He could see it in their eyes—and his own when he looked in a mirror.
People saw what they wanted to see. He guessed he was no different.
But if Joe hadn’t come along today, he wasn’t sure how much help he’d be to Susannah. He’d worn out his welcome with the local law.
“You need to speak to Trooper Fitzgerald?” Bernice stuck to protocol with the formal title. Her question had been directed to Joe, but she kept her eyes on Payton.
“Yes, we do.” Joe nodded.
The woman glanced over her shoulder, then stood, her chair squeaking with the effort. From behind the plexiglass window, she stepped toward them and rested her elbows on the worn Formica countertop that separated the secured offices from the waiting area.
“He’s on the phone. No telling how long he’ll be.” She forced a smile. “I got some coffee brewing, fresh. Can I get you boys a cup while you wait?”
“Not for me.” Joe shook his head. “Thanks, Bernice.”
Payton did the same, mumbling a distracted reply under his breath.
“You almost missed him. He’s heading to Anchorage, but I’ll slip him a note to let him know you’re waiting. Just have a seat.”
After Bernice ducked behind a closed door, Payton glanced back toward the visitor chairs. With the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he couldn’t imagine sitting while the trooper got off the phone. His impatience had taken a firm grip.
Pacing the small room, he found his eyes unable to settle on any one thing. Flashes of Nikki’s face plagued him, along with erratic sound bites from their last conversations. He’d been so rapt in his own misery, he hadn’t spent much time with Susannah or Nikki; something else to fuel the fires of guilt.
“God, I hate this.”
Payton wasn’t sure he’d spoken aloud, but when he spotted Joe from the corner of his eye, he noticed his friend standing and watching him. Cool and rock steady as still water, Joe’s dark eyes never gave away his thoughts. Most days, Payton envied the man’s self-control. Yet there were other times he thought holding a mirror to Joe’s nose might tell him if the man actually breathed like normal people.
“Trooper Fitzgerald will see you now.” Bernice opened the door to let them come in.
By the time he
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