Firefly Run Read Free

Detective Tanner, that’s the nicest compliment I’ve gotten all day."
    He attempted to smile, but it never quite materialized. "I’m sorry I haven’t called."
    She waved his apology away. "It’s not like I picked up the phone either."
    They lapsed into silence. A year of their lives had passed since they’d talked last, and yet they couldn’t seem to find anything to say.
    A growling from Reed’s side of the table broke the silence.
    "When did you eat last?" she asked.
    He shrugged. "Lunch yesterday?" That a grown man couldn’t even remember when he’d last eaten said a lot for his state of mind. He was truly worried, and she had to do something so she didn’t give in to panic and what might be irrational fears.
    "Give me a minute to talk to Chris, then I’ll make you some lunch."
    "You don’t have to do that."
    "You going to go into town to eat?" she asked.
    "No."
    "That’s what I thought." She pointed to her left. "That’s my cabin. Go on in and get something to drink out of the fridge."
    Shelly headed for the office, and halfway there the feeling that she was being watched crept over her. Was it Reed? Chris? Or someone she couldn’t see? She quickened her pace, avoiding the answer.
    ****
    Reed sat at Shelly’s kitchen table, a rustic piece that looked as though it’d been made out of barn siding. He ate the thick ham and cheese sandwich and sweet pickles she’d placed before him as he watched her put away some groceries and act as if she’d forgotten he was there. He allowed her the time to soak in the reality of the situation.
    He glanced around the main room of the small cabin, noting the blue-and-white checked curtains at the windows, the framed photographs of mountain scenes on the walls, the patchwork quilt draped over the back of the couch, and a mason jar filled with some nameless wildflowers centered on the mantle above the stone fireplace. A closed door across the room presumably led to her bedroom and bathroom.
    The exterior matched the guest cabins, the interior reflected Shelly’s love of nature and her welcoming personality. But nothing even hinted at her life in Texas. No Texas-themed knickknacks. No evidence of the nature preserve where she’d worked. No photos of friends or even Troy.
    "I put them away," she said, startling him from his inspection.
    "What?"
    "The pictures of Troy you were looking for."
    Her accuracy surprised him. "You pick up mind reading in these mountains?"
    She slid into the chair on the opposite side of the table but kept her profile to him. For some reason, her nearness made him nervous.
    "It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done." Her face hinted at a sadness that had dulled but would never fully disappear. "Mom and I argued about it. I felt like I was betraying Troy by shoving all my reminders of him in a drawer. Mom had loved him too, but she said it was the only way I’d be able to go on, to learn to live again. I fought it for so long because I didn’t want to live again. I wished Eddie had shot me too."
    Her admission ripped at Reed’s heart. God, how much more guilty and worthless would he feel if Shelly had died that day, too? That his best friend had died while he’d been inside the church flirting with a bridesmaid was guilt enough. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the girl’s name now.
    Shelly glanced at him before returning her gaze to the opposite side of the room. "Six months after I came home, I woke up one morning in here in the middle of the floor, a picture of Troy wrapped in my arms and my eyes nearly swollen shut from crying. I looked like hell, felt even worse. It hurt so much to admit it, but Mom was right. I had to accept that Troy was never coming back and learn to live without him."
    "Have you?" Reed cursed himself the moment the question was out of his mouth. But he had to know. Was there some way to go on? To stop remembering? Because as hard as he’d tried, he couldn’t outrun the guilt and pain.
    She looked at him