Chapter 8
Today I was met with silence.
I walked toward Silas’s office and found his door open. Inside, I found him kicked back in his chair behind the desk, his bare feet crossed on top of it, gaze fixed on the ceiling.
“No music today?” I said from the doorway. “I’m shocked.”
He turned toward me. “Oh, hey, Gigi.”
I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me. “What’s going on? Something’s off. I can tell.”
He removed his feet from the desk and sat up. “I was just thinking about my sister. Her name’s Piper, but I’ve called her Pip since we were kids.”
“Has something happened?”
“She was hit while riding her bike in Los Angeles this morning.”
“Is she—”
“Alive? Yes. She has a broken arm, a couple of cracked ribs, and a concussion. But she’s going to be okay.”
A feeling of relief washed over me. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Me too.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Silas rubbed the back of his neck.
“You ever have one of those moments where the phone rings, and before you even answer it, you already know something’s wrong?” he asked. “And then someone tells you something you don’t want to hear, and everything in your body goes cold.”
“I know the feeling. The day Fallon died was the worst day of my life.”
My daughter’s name settled into the room like a memory neither of us had the power to ignore. It had been several years since she passed away, but grief couldn’t always be measured in time.
“I’m sorry,” Silas said. “I keep thinking about how fast things can change. One minute you’re living your life. The next you find out just how easy it is for someone you love to be taken from you.”
I let the words sink in. “Tell me about your sister. I don’t know much about her.”
That earned the first real smile I’d seen since walking in.
“Pip,” he said. “She’s a loaded topic.”
“I’ve got time.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. “All right, for starters, she’s unique and a bit of a free spirit. I’d describe her as boho bougie.”
I laughed. “I might need you to define that for me.”
“Let’s see … she’s the kind of person who loves farmers markets but also appreciates high-end restaurants and a nice bottle of rosé. She’s creative, witty, and curious. Maybe too curious for her own good sometimes.”
She sounded like a female version of him, with the same independent nature and carefree spirit.
“What does she do?” I asked.
“A little bit of everything,” he said. “She’s written a few mystery novels in the past couple of years, if you can believe it, and now she considers herself an amateur detective.”
“Oh?”
“Every time we talk on the phone, she begs me to go into details about the cases I’m working on.”
“And do you?”
“Sometimes. Pip loves to analyze things and try to guess who the guilty party is from the list of suspects. And you know something? She gets it right more often than I’d like to admit.”
“Maybe one day she’ll visit and you can introduce us.”
“Careful what you wish for now,” he said, finger wagging. “You two might end up solving a crime together.”
“That sounds dangerous but also fun.”
He raised a brow. “I think it would be entertaining. We’ll know soon enough. Pip’s planning a trip out here this winter.”
“I look forward to meeting her.”
“And she looks forward to meeting you. I’ve told her all about you.”
“Speaking of the people in your life, how are things going with Kai? Last I heard, the two of you were talking about taking your relationship to the next level.”
Something shifted in his expression then, subtle but unmistakable.
“Better than I expected,” he said, grinning.
“That sounds promising.”
He hesitated, almost like he wasn’t used to talking about this side of his life.
“I asked Kai to move in with me last week, and she said yes,” he said.
“Wait a minute. Are you telling me you’ve entered the domestic phase of your relationship?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t make it weird, Gigi.”
“I’m sorry, but we’ve known each other a long time. This is a significant step. How are you feeling about it?”
He gave the question some thought. “Terrified, but in a good way. For what it’s worth, I think this one might be different. I think Kai, you know … she might be ‘the one.’”
Over the years, many women had come and gone from Silas’s life, and not once had he spoken of any of them in this way.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said. “I’ve wanted this for you for a long time.”
“Yeah, me too.”
The light conversation we’d been having lingered for a second before reality nudged its way back into the room, and I pulled out a chair in front of his desk and sat down.
“You going to tell me why you’re here?” he asked.
“I want to talk to you about Wren Mayfair.”
Silas nodded. “I figured you might.”
“I’m working the case.”
“I heard.”
“What can you tell me?”
He studied me for a moment, his playful expression fading as the weight of his job returned.
“You know,” he said, “I’m glad you stopped by.”
“That sounds promising.”
“It might be. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”