Page 16 of Retool

The door didn’t creak—Bobby made sure of that—but displaced air whispered, and I recognized the familiar sounds of Bobby moving around in the dark, the way he did when he was trying not to wake me.

“What?”I asked—and my tone could generously be described asgrumpy.“Am I overreacting?Am I supposed to act like this isn’t a big deal?”

“I don’t think you’re overreacting,” Bobby said.He wasn’t exactly close to the bed.I couldn’t tell where he was, and I was too tired to lift my head.“I think you had a horrible night, and you’re understandably upset.”

“This is how it started last time.”

He didn’t answer at first.And then he said, “Dash, I’m sorry about last time.We didn’t know you—none of us did.This time will be different.”

“But it won’t be, Bobby.It already isn’t.I’m the one who found her.Again.I’m a suspect.Again.I’m theonlysuspect, as a matter of fact.”

“For now.”

I laughed, and it sounded out of tune and jangly, like some weird musical instrument falling down a flight of stairs.

“The sheriff isn’t going to railroad you, Dash,” Bobby said.“But she’s not wrong about this.She has to do her job.”

“Was she wrong about not letting you investigate?”

“No.”

I made a buzzing sound.“Wrong answer.”

“She’s not wrong, Dash.”

“Because it wouldn’t look good.”

“Because she knows there is literally nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.”His voice was surprisingly thick when he said, “I’m not doing a very good job of it.”

I raised my head.He was a shadow on the other side of the room.I patted the bed.The Bobby-Shadow didn’t move.I patted the bed again, and with those quiet steps, he moved toward me.He sat, and the mattress dipped, and I rolled against him.His hand came to my hip, steadying me, and then it stayed there: solid, warm, strong.

“You can’t keep me safe from everything,” I said.

He barked a laugh.“Trust me: I know.”

I rubbed his leg.“I shouldn’t have followed her.I should have left it alone, like you told me to.”

Bobby made a sound that might have qualified as amused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”I asked.

“It means I would have liked to see that.”

“Excuse me?”

In the weak light that filtered in from the hall, his smile made a brighter shadow.And I was surprised to find myself smiling too.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bobby said.The hand on my hip gave me a little shake.“We’ll figure it out.”

“I hate this.”And I couldn’t put it all into words, but it was everything: not just the fact that I was a suspect (again), not even the fact that I’d been the one to find her body (again), but death.Coming face to face with death got less shocking, perhaps.But it never got better.

Bobby bent and kissed my hair.“I know.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your first case,” I whispered.

“Dash, you didn’t ruin anything.And it’s not my case.I’m part of a team, and we all work together.The sheriff is right: it’s better for both of us if I’m not involved in this.”

I had my thoughts about that—which I was planning on sharingat length—but the doorbell rang.