4. Luke #2
I repeated our mantra to her like I would to anyone else at the department, but it felt heavier somehow.
Letty: Always. Have a good night.
* * *
The glare of the sun reflected off the concrete steps.
A single reporter waited for us outside the courthouse.
Chief Patrick Williams gave a short interview, crediting Monroe and me for our work on the case and expressing his appreciation to the judge for denying bail.
Ryan Redmond’s not-guilty plea came as no surprise to anyone.
It was my day off, and now that court was out, I had nothing else to do for the day. Sitting in Wyatt’s house didn’t hold any appeal. I brought up Seb’s contact as I got into my SUV.
“Hey, Seb. You busy?” I greeted him when he answered the call.
“I have an appointment at 2:00 p.m., but I’m good until then. Come by the shop,” he said, inviting me to the tattoo shop that he owned and operated. He took skin art very seriously, decorating his body with tattoos. He was an insanely talented artist; tattoos were just the medium that hooked him.
The drive to the shop was quick. I stopped at the Mexican food truck on my way by, grabbing a half dozen tacos, two sides of chips and guac, and two sides of their street corn. The flavorful aromas filled the car, making it hard to get them to their destination without digging in.
“Hey!” Seb shouted, a wide grin pulling at his face when I arrived with the food. “You read my mind.”
“It almost didn’t make it. I’m starving.” One of the downfalls of moving into Wyatt’s place was that there was no food there. Grocery shopping was on my list of things to do, but first, I needed to fill Seb in on everything that was going on.
“You off today or just working later?” Seb asked as he dug into the containers.
He had a small office in the back where he could get some work done, but since no one else was there, we settled into the couches that were set up for people who were either waiting for their turn or for one of their friends.
“Off. I just got out of court for Redmond’s arraignment.”
“Crazy.” Seb shook his head. “That’s the first murder Calla Bay has seen in what… like thirty years?”
“Thirty-five years. He pleaded not guilty. Judge denied bail.”
“Good. Fucking lunatic.”
I took a bite of my taco, not even tasting it. I thought the same thing. I still did. Mostly. I hated that I was second-guessing this. There wasn’t even any proof that what Wes said was true, but I’d known Wes a long time. I respected him, as a person and as an investigator .
“Wes thinks the kid is innocent. The family hired him to prove it.”
“Oh shit. That’s going to be awkward AF.”
“AF? What are you, a teenage girl?” I laughed.
“We all know I’m just cooler than you. You’ll get there eventually, just in time for it to not be cool anymore.”
The sound of laughter filled the space. It felt nice to lose the black cloud that had been over my head for the last few days.
“Yeah, well. It gets better. According to Wes, not only is Redmond innocent, but the Calla Bay police know that and are pressing murder charges against him anyway.” I kicked my feet up onto the couch.
“Apparently, police corruption is rampant in our department. He stopped before he accused me, personally, of knowingly charging the wrong person, but just barely. He was asking questions about Monroe.”
“Monroe’s a douche.”
“He can be arrogant, but that doesn’t make him dirty.”
“Shit. That’s a lot on your plate. And now you’ll have Wes underfoot doing his own investigation.”
Seb sat back, patting his flat stomach like devouring a couple of tacos and some chips was making him lose his figure.
“You ready for the best part?” I asked.
“Lay it on me.”
“Jules is pregnant.” It may have been my tone—or more likely my demeanor—that tipped him off. We had always had that type of relationship where we could talk without words and read between the lines.
“Stop me if I’m saying the wrong thing here, but… congrat— ”
“Nope.”
His eyes rounded in surprise. “Oh, shit.”
“She’s been screwing around with someone. It’s not mine,” I told him, rubbing the back of my neck where the kinks had taken up permanent residence.
“Luke, seriously. I’m sorry, man. That’s fucking awful. Do you know who?”
“No. She wouldn’t tell me. I could figure it out, but I haven’t.
Papers are being drawn up as we speak.” Calling the lawyer this morning and officially starting the divorce process had hurt, but only five hours later, it was already feeling ordinary.
Like this was inevitable. “She tried to blame me for her affair. Telling me I fell in love with someone else, and that’s why she strayed.
Can you believe that? Like who does she think this elusive person is that holds my heart? ”
“Um, Scarlett.”
“What?” My feet hit the floor, sitting up so I could shoot my incredulous glare at Seb with full force.
“Scarlett Hart.”
“I know who she is. What does Letty have to do with anything?”
“Seriously? You’re going to be obtuse about it?” He did the one-brow-raised move, leveling me with a challenging look. But I would take that challenge because I seriously didn’t know what the hell he was getting at.
“About what? Letty is one of my best friends, but I’m not in love with her. You think that Jules thinks that I’m in love with Letty?”
“I think you’re in love with Letty . You just haven’t realized it yet.”
“Fuck off. We’re just friends. ”
“And do all of Scarlett’s friends call her Letty?”
“So because I have a nickname for her, I must be in love with her,” I scoffed.
“Okay, my bad. I’m just saying, if you want to know what Juliet meant when she said that, she meant Scarlett Joan Hart.”
“That’s Melissa Joan Hart, the actress.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to know that kind of stuff,” Seb laughed.
“Did you forget I have a sister?”
A beat passed.
“Never,” he said, unusually serious.
“Scarlett’s middle name is Ruth, after her grandmother.”
Seb’s smirk said it all. Apparently, because I knew Scarlett’s middle name—and the origin story behind it—that was supposed to mean something. He was just as delusional as Wes.