Welcome Home, Katie Gallagher. Seana Kelly
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The summer she turned fifteen everything changed. I’d finally built up the courage to ask her out, and before the words could leave my mouth, she walked off, laughing about my being a little kid. It crushed me. And then she left, never spent another summer with us. The last thing she ever said was “Him? Come on. He’s a little kid.” It took me a couple of years before I gathered the courage to ask another girl out. Then years later, Alice came along and finally cured me of romantic love.
These days I dated. I had fun. But I didn’t involve my heart or my trust anymore.
I’d just sat down at my desk when Heather’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Chief, you have a call on line two.”
“Chief Cavanaugh.”
“Hello, this is Justin Cady. I’m told you interviewed my wife, Katherine Cady.”
“Yes.”
Silence filled the line. He waited for me to elaborate. As I wasn’t going to do that, I let the silence stretch.
He cleared his throat. “Can you give me the phone number of our house up there? I can’t find it in any of the paperwork.”
I knew Nellie’s number by heart. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t give out that kind of information over the phone. Why don’t you contact your wife?”
He grunted. “Have you seen what she did to my car? I’m trying to avoid the psycho.”
“Then why would you—”
“It’s for my lawyer. He needs to get an appraiser out there.”
“Appraiser?” This was not good. It would really hurt Pops to have Nellie’s house sold.
“We’re divorcing. Obviously. That house is the only thing of value my wife has. Real estate prices are good up there, but I’ve never seen what kind of condition the place is in.”
Because he’d never visited. Interesting. I tapped my pen on my open notebook. “I see.”
He paused. “What?”
I shook my head, pointlessly. “Nothing. You and your wife can do whatever you choose with the house. I’ll just be sorry to see more changes. I knew Nellie Gallagher. Quite well.”
“Oh, then you can tell me what I need to know.”
I made a noncommittal hum. “I’ll let your lawyer fill you in. House appraisal isn’t in my skill set.”
“Which leads me back to the phone number.”
“And me back to advising you to contact your wife.”
“Ex.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Have you at least seen the car? Is it as bad as I remember?” There was a whine in his voice I empathized with. Half the car was a beauty.
“Probably worse. It doesn’t take long for exposed metal to rust up here.”
I heard a strangled scream. “Fine. Screw her! She’ll see what I can do when I’m motivated.”
“I’d also advise you not to threaten someone while talking to a cop.”
“Not a threat, a promise.”
Kate
BEAR ARRIVED EXACTLY at seven. Chaucer barked once to alert me and then stood by the door, tail wagging. But I was busy panicking. What the hell was I thinking, agreeing to go on a date? “No men” was the first item on my to-do list. My divorce wasn’t final yet. I had already proven to have poor decision-making skills. What was I doing? It had been over ten years since I’d been out on a date, out with a man other than Justin. Granted, Bear seemed nice, was wicked hot and Chaucer loved him, but I couldn’t shake this nervous, unsettled feeling, two parts great and three parts wrong. Maybe I could call in sick. Through the door. Just shout “I’m sick!”
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