Chapters (68)
- Dedication
- Dedication
- TRIGGER WARNINGS
- Full Page Image
- 1. Stone
- STONE
- 2. Lenny
- LENNY
- 3. Stone
- STONE
- 4. Lenny
- LENNY
- 5. Stone
- STONE
- 6. Lenny
- LENNY
- 7. Stone
- STONE
- 8. Lenny
- LENNY
- 9. Lenny
- LENNY
- 10. Stone
- STONE
- 11. Lenny
- LENNY
- 12. Stone
- STONE
- 13. Lenny
- LENNY
- 14. Stone
- STONE
- 15. Lenny
- LENNY
- 16. Stone
- STONE
- 17. Lenny
- LENNY
- 18. Stone
- STONE
- 19. Lenny
- LENNY
- 20. Stone
- STONE
- 21. Stone
- STONE
- 22. Stone
- STONE
- 23. Lenny
- LENNY
- 24. Lenny
- LENNY
- 25. Stone
- STONE
- 26. Lenny
- LENNY
- 27. Stone
- STONE
- 28. Lenny
- LENNY
- 29. Stone
- STONE
- 30. Lenny
- LENNY
- EPILOGUE: STONE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- ALSO BY MK AHEARN
It didn’t take long for me to get everything set up for the two cats, as well as for myself in the living room. Hours passed, and when Len didn’t re-emerge, I started shifting through the papers the sheriff had given us, memorizing every little detail of the case and the reports Len had asked for.
Close to 9:00, Len appeared from the room.
“You let me sleep too long,” she accused, rubbing her eyes.
“You needed rest,” I pointed out.
She pursed her lips and walked to the kitchen. When she returned, she held a makeshift sandwich she managed to whip up with what little groceries I had. I realized I hadn’t eaten at all and quickly hurried to the kitchen to find something for myself.
I should’ve made food for us both.
I settled on a basic salad and returned to the living room. Len sat in an armchair, her legs pulled in close. She’d already finished the sandwich, flipping through a book she found on the shelf beside the chair.
I could’ve watched her read all night long.
“I can feel you staring,” she said without looking up from the book.
“I like that one,” I said, recognizing the title and trying to find a valid excuse.
“I’m only three pages in,“ Len said. She closed the book and stood, eyes avoiding mine. “If there’s nothing to help with tonight, I’m going to read this in bed.”
“Do you need anything?” I asked gently.
I knew it was loaded question.
She shook her head. “Goodnight, Beck,” she said quickly.
Before she passed the couch where I sat to head up the stairs, I reached out and caught her arm. “Stone,” I said for the first time in months.
“What?”
“You don’t have to call me Agent Beck,” I said. “You can call me Stone.”
* * *
“Shit!” Len yelled.
I came rushing into the kitchen to find her staring at her phone. It’d been a few days of Len staying in the rental with me, and I’d grown accustomed to her presence. The first day or two was hard; I wasn’t used to sharing a space with someone else.
Blythe would’ve teased me about it.
Most nights, I stayed up as long as possible before falling asleep, afraid to subject Len to the nightmares. They were unpredictable, and I needed to get a handle on them.
“What’s wrong?” I breathed out, realizing my panic was for nothing as she held up her phone.
“I have to have dinner with my family tonight,” she grumbled.
“Your parents are in town,” I recalled. She’d told me a few days prior—it was part of what had been bothering her that first meeting.
“Yes,” she sighed.
“And you have to go to your brother’s tonight?” I asked.
She nodded.