She deeply valued Emma’s friendship, valued having someone to rely on, to exchange experiences with, to laugh with. Especially since the end of her marriage… She suspected Emma knew she had a crush on Cord. Emma had always been able to read her emotions, even when Shallie herself tried to deny or disguise them.

“Back to your mother… If you don’t pursue this, it’ll bother you for the rest of your life.”

“You’re right. Only question is, how do I go about it? Check the internet?”

“Didn’t you say that one of those three guys—the three stooges, or whatever—is a cop or a sheriff? Ask him.”

“Oh, my God! Of course. Why didn’t that occur to me?”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re not thinking straight, for one reason or another. Maybe a reason named Cord?”

“Okay, okay. I think I’ve told you too much,” Shallie said with a quick laugh. “But seriously, thanks for being there for me.”

“Goes both ways.”

“You can count on it. Well, I guess I should go down and get some coffee. And find out what we’re doing for the day.”

“All right, I should get going, too. But I have to tell you something first. I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this and I hope you won’t be upset, but I heard that Rob’s seeing someone—not the one he had the affair with, though. And, Shallie, he might be moving in with her.”

Shallie knew Emma believed, or used to, that Rob was hoping to reconcile, get back with her; she’d never believed it herself. She realized that as little as a week ago, hearing about Rob’s new relationship would have upset her, maybe devastated her. But her life felt different now.

“If this is what he wants, I’m fine with it,” she said.

“Good. Keep me posted on the PI thing. And, Carly,” Emma added. “Talk soon, and much love.”

“Same to you.”

Shallie dressed quickly in the usual old jeans, a cotton plaid shirt, running shoes. That reminded her—she needed to talk to Cord or, more likely, Tina about laundry.

She walked slowly downstairs, considering how to approach him about asking Eli to recommend a private detective. He was in the kitchen by himself.

“Hi,” he greeted her, holding up a mug.

“Yes, please.”

They exchanged the standard pleasantries as they sipped their coffee (better than yesterday’s)—the weather (warm and sunny), the dogs (happy lounging on the porch) and plans for the day (session starting at ten thirty, Shallie continuing to work with Chief).

Cord offered her waffles with syrup; normally, she would’ve declined. Not her kind of food at all. But she simply nodded and said, “Thanks.”