Another silence that goes on too long and then Tomasetti says, “I guess that explains why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I’m just trying to absorb all of this.”

I raise my head and look at him, trying to decipher his frame of mind, discern any sarcasm or dark humor. In typical Tomasetti fashion, he gives me nothing. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“How did it happen? I thought you were taking the pill?”

“I am.” That I’d fail to do that one small, simple thing, more than anything, makes me feel like an idiot. “There were a couple of times when I missed a dose. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? How could you not know?”

“I was busy with work. I pulled a couple of all-nighters.” Misery presses down on me. I feel like crying. But I’m angry, too. Angry because he’s not making this any easier.

“I take it you’re not pleased,” I say, after a moment.

“I’m not sure how I feel. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Neither was I.”

He’s still standing at the door, his hands on the jamb on either side of him, looking at me as if I’ve betrayed him.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I tell him.

“I know.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

He leaves his place at the door. Instead of sitting beside me, he reaches down and takes my hand, pulls me to my feet. Hot tears sting my eyes when his arms go around me.

“I screwed up,” I whisper.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“Tomasetti, I’m scared.”

He kisses my temple, runs his hand down the back of my head. “Don’t worry,” he tells me. “We’ll figure it out.”

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Every couple of weeks I hold a roll-call type meeting with my officers. The department is small—only four full-time officers, including myself—and most days only one of us is on duty at any given time. Roland “Pickles” Shumaker is my auxiliary officer. He’s a decade or so past retirement age and usually puts in about ten hours a week, most often working the school crosswalk. I communicate with my officers via e-mail as well as cell and radio, and we keep each other up-to-date on the goings-on in Painters Mill and Holmes County. But as chief, I feel face time is vital, especially for a small department whose members don’t always see each other, for everyone to sit down and talk and maybe even do a little cutting up.