Page 46 of Little Last Words

“I need to keep doing what I’m doing. We’ll get there.”

“We’ll getwhere?”

“To the core of the apple.” He swirled a finger in the air. “There’s a whole other Georgiana inside there just waiting to get out.”

I was waiting to get out, all right.

Out of his sight.

“The other day, you were razzing me,” I said. “Today, you still are, but you’re also acting like you want to be friends. I don’t understand.”

He considered the comment and said, “You’re right. A bit of backstory should do the trick. I accepted the detective position after your stepdad called me. He said Chief Foley was struggling to find a new detective after he accepted the position as the new chief. Foley called Harvey to see if he knew anyone who’d be a good fit for the job, and since I’d worked with Harvey in the past, he thought of me. And you’re right. I was retired. I was also bored. So bored I’ve taken up golf, even though I’m not too fond of the sport.”

It made a lot more sense to me now.

“I wonder why Harvey didn’t say anything to me about you coming back as a detective,” I said.

“It all happened so fast. Besides, he didn’t think you’d remember me, and I guess you don’t. As to your comment about wanting to be friends, I do. You remind me so much of your father. Being around you is … well, a bit like being around him again, in a way.”

The comment seemed to stir emotions within him, and he bit down on his lip.

“I miss him too,” I said.

“Hey, ahh, before you leave, I got something for you.” He ran around the side of his car, opened the door, and shouted, “Stay right where you are. Don’t take off on me now.”

He returned moments later and handed me what felt like a piece of photo paper.

Scribbled in black pen were the words:

To the second-best detective in the county.

I’ll never bet against you at darts again.

Abe

“On the weekends, a bunch of us would get together at the Untamed Shrew,” he said. “We’d shoot pool, play darts, drink beer, relax. It was a grand time.”

I had no idea the bar had been around for so long.

“Thanks for showing this note to me, but it’s yours,” I said. “I think you should keep it.”

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet. Turn it over.”

I flipped to the other side, staring down at a photo I’d never seen before of my father. He was standing off to the side of a dartboard. Next to him was Harvey and a man who looked like a younger version of Whitlock. In my father’s arms, was a little girl—me.

“See, I told you we’d met before,” he said. “Still want me to keep the photo?”

While I had plenty of photos of my father, I didn’t have any of him holding me at this age. My mother couldn’t seem to part with them, not that I blamed her.

“I mean, I’d be happy to hang on to it for a while for you,” I said.

He laughed. “You do that.”

“About before … at times I can come off a little, ehh—”

“Difficult when it comes to letting people in.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”