Tucker barked a harsh, seal-like laugh and scrubbed his dry eyes again.

“—and he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Then why wouldn’t he say anything else? Why wouldn’t he just tell me all of that, about the bar and the bartender and a few drinks? Christ, he knew how much he was hurting me, and he wouldn’t even tell me what he’d been doing. Just work. That’s all he would say.”

“Look, I don’t want to get in the middle of you and North, but maybe he felt like that’s all he needed to say. Maybe he wanted you to trust him.”

Tuck seemed to be settling. He pressed his hands to the hot spots in his cheeks. He looked wild and totally undone, and the transformation had been so sudden and so intense that Shaw’s adrenaline was still pumping. When Tuck spoke, his voice was soft and broken. “Did he tell you that? Did he say he doesn’t think I trust him?”

“What? No. Christ, look, I’m not getting in the middle of you guys. If you—”

“You already are.”

Like a splash of cold water. “What?”

“Come on, Shaw. We’re all adults. You and I, we’ve never talked about this. I didn’t think we had to. But maybe we should.” Tucker braced himself, squaring his shoulders. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

“Oh my God. No.”

“Because you did. In college, you were crushing on him pretty hard.”

“It was just a crush. A long time ago.”

“Shaw, come on. It was more than a crush.”

“He loves you. He married you. North and I are friends, really good friends, but that’s it. There’s nothing beyond that.”

“Would you tell me if it were more than that? Would you—would you be honest about that, Shaw?”

Shaw thought about the mixture of Irish Spring soap and American Crew gel that he smelled every day, his first sign of North before he even saw him. He thought about the sound of the Red Wings on the house’s old floorboards. He thought about the night Marvin Hanson had pushed him down a flight of stairs in a parking garage—not that he remembered much of it after the concussion—and the glow of a sodium vapor lamp ringing North McKinney with a halo, like Shaw’s own personal avenging angel. He thought about those strong fingers working his neck this morning.

“Of course. And I promise it’s nothing like that. I swear, Tuck.”

“Ok.” He drywashed his face again. “And you were telling the truth earlier? You don’t know where he is?”

“I just know he went out to try to get some more information for this case. I can’t tell you any more than that without—”

Tucker waved him off. “Without compromising client confidentiality. Right. I get it. Do you think I’m a total lunatic now?”

“Not anymore than I already did.”

With a grin, Tuck said, “Fair enough.” Then the grin went out. “Are you going to tell him?”

“Tuck, if you guys are having problems—”