Page 70 of Tear Me Apart

He knocks on the door, noticing the soffit has come loose by the porch light. He needs to come over and do some work.

It is something they do, the boys in blue. When one of their own is widowed, they band together and try to take on some of the weight of chores and home upkeep. And everyone liked Gorman, and in turn, Andrea.

The bell chimes, and a few moments later, Andrea opens the door with a grin. She’s lost weight but looks better than the last time Parks saw her. Her hair is in a ponytail; she is wearing yoga clothes and sneakers and a sense of impatience.

“Heading out?”

“Hey, Bob! You just caught me. Come in, come in. It’s so good to see you.”

She has a southern lilt, sweet as honey. He follows her to the kitchen.

The interior of the house is faring better than the outside. Seagrass green walls with white wainscoting, an updated kitchen in grays and white, creamy cabinets with a dark island. They’d just done the house in honor of Gorman’s upcoming retirement. Parks knows there is a large great room off to the right done in wood paneling and leathers. A man cave, as Gorman called it. Parks wouldn’t mind something like it himself, one day.

Always the hostess, Andrea has already pulled out sweet tea and ginger snaps and is arranging them on the counter.

“I don’t want to put you out—”

“Oh hush, you. You need a good feeding now and then. How’s Linda?”

“Somewhere in Florida, I think. We haven’t spoken in a while.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry to hear it. I thought you two might put things back together.”

“I’d hoped to, but taking the sergeant’s job shut it all down. Junior’s on the street now, too, doing the family proud. I think two cops in the family is more than she can handle. It’s all good. Paperwork’s final next week. We’ve kept it civil.”

“It’s still a shame. But Junior, he’s a good boy. Handsome in that uniform. Mine are rebels. I don’t know if they’ll ever grow up.”

Andrea and Gorman have twin boys, and Parks knows she isn’t kidding, they are both wild. Fun, and fearless, and smart. They are juniors at Sewanee now. Gorman was so proud the day they were accepted, bragging to everyone he’d come in contact with.

Andrea pushes a glass of tea toward him and gestures for him to sit at the island. She stays standing.

He takes a deep drink of the tea. “I assume you’re wondering why I’m here.”

“I figure it’s something about a case Gorman was working on.” She says her dead husband’s name with barely a wince, and Parks is proud of her.

“You’re right. It’s the Armstrong case.”

“Oh, the missing baby? Gosh, that was years ago.”

“Right.” More tea, a cookie nibble.

“Spit it out, Bob.”

“Gorman had his own case files, yes?”

“Every homicide detective does, you know that. You need the Armstrong files? After all these years, too. Imagine that.”

“It might be nothing. Zack Armstrong made a call yesterday. Apparently he called Gorman regularly, hoping for updates.”

“He’s not the only one. But yes, he called, on schedule, twice a year. I guess no one told him about...well, Gorman’s been gone long enough, I can say it. That he died.”

“Armstrong wasn’t aware of the accident. He was caught off guard, for sure. It’s probably nothing, but I took a look at the case files, just to familiarize myself. I hadn’t seen them, figured what the heck. There was a recent notation that piqued my interest. A handwritten Post-it note. Gorman’s writing. I was hoping his personal files might explain what it meant.”

“What did the note say?”

“‘Colorado.’ It was underlined three times.”

She stills, and her eyes become hooded. A hand snakes to her throat.