Page 29 of Silent Bones

“No,” he said, rifling through a cabinet. “I meant, didn’t you bring any with you? I need to wake up.”

She gave a dry smile. “No, but I’ve got an epinephrine auto-injector in the cruiser.”

“Funny, Thorne.”

He set about making some.

The kettle whistled low as he poured water into a French press. Callie wandered into the living room, eyes skimming over the decor. A mounted set of vintage trail skis hung over the fireplace. One wall was a gallery of black-and-white family photos: kids on a dock, muddy dogs, a younger Noah in uniform.

“What are you doing here?”

She turned slightly. “You didn’t forget you’ve got a meeting this morning, right?”

“Of course I didn’t forget,” he said, pressing down the plunger. “The DEC guy. Calder.”

“Right. About his daughter Avery.”

“I know that too,” he said. “I meant, what are you doing here? Where’s McKenzie?”

“He said he had pressing business.”

“Translation, he didn’t feel like getting up.”

Callie shrugged. “You’re not far wrong.”

He handed her a mug. She sniffed it. “Is this black tar and regret?”

“Just drink it.”

They sat for a moment, the lake visible through the big picture window. Sunlight glittered off the water, dappling the floor. The silence settled into something almost companionable.

“You said the kids are with Gretchen. How’s everything with them? I haven’t seen you all in a while,” she asked after a beat.

Noah leaned back, rubbing his forehead. “They’re good. Busy. And… well, I haven’t been over lately, because I figured you’ve got enough on your plate.”

“Jake’s not a plate,” she said evenly.

He raised an eyebrow. “No?”

She took a sip. “He’s more like… a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal. Functional. Fills a need.”

Noah laughed under his breath. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“More sexual than romantic.”

He thought about his own interactions with Natalie. That about summed it up for both of them.

She stood and wandered toward the hallway. “Bathroom still where it used to be?”

“Unless the house grew legs and rearranged itself, yeah.”

She disappeared down the hall, past a bedroom with the door cracked open. Inside, she saw a half-unpacked duffel bag,a laptop, a stack of open case files. Noah’s room was tidy but utilitarian. No personal touches. No softness.

When she came back out, he was pulling on a clean shirt. “So… it sounds like you have a problem in paradise,” he said, not looking at her.

She gave a shrug. “It’s touch and go.”

“You want to talk about it?”