“She left you there?”

I nodded. “She saw him, too. His body. She freaked out.”

“She was at the scene? Inside the house?”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

“Sorry.”

“Charlotte, these people, what are you doing with them?”

“You mean Audrey and Brandon?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know them before, right? They were Danielle’s friends, not yours. You don’t belong with them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“One thing it means is if you find a dead body, the person you are with should not just leave you there. You deserve better than that.”

“Oh, come on. He was her friend. I mean, I barely knew him, but she—”

“I’m just saying you deserve more.”

He leaned forward, touched my knee. I looked up. His face was kind, concerned. The skin around his eyes was textured in tiny crisscrosses. I wanted to touch it. I wondered how old he was. Forty, maybe? Not too old.

“I know you loved Danielle, you grew up together, I understand that. But it seems to me like she made a lot of bad decisions. I wouldn’t necessarily use her life as a template. There’s better ways to pick your friends.”

“Yeah? Like what?” I said, defensive.

“Like find people who are nice to you and help you and don’t get you involved in their bullshit drama. And their drugs and all that.”

“What makes you think I’m any different from them?” I said. “Or from Danielle?”

“Charlotte, I’m a detective, remember?” He grinned at me.

He was right, maybe, but what did he want? I couldn’t figure him out. Besides, Audrey needed someone. She was fucked up, sure, but her two best friends had just died. I was worried about her even now, though I also had to admit I was glad she wasn’t there. And Ash was.

“I’m gonna get another beer,” I said. “Want one?”

“I should get going.”

“Lecture’s over?”

“For now.” He smiled and squeezed my hand.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

“Yeah.”

“How long was he like that?”

“You mean when did he die? We don’t know yet. We only have a rough estimate. A couple of days, probably. Why?”

“I just wondered.”

“Try not to think about it. It’s over.”

“Yeah, right. How do I not think about it?”

He sat next to me and put his arm around me. “Sorry,” he said. “I know it’s not that easy. If you need someone to talk to about it, you can call me.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I breathed him in, warm skin and hair and faint sweat. We sat like that for a moment, and I thought if I could stay in his arms it might be possible to forget the smell of Brandon’s body. To believe it was really over.

“Charlotte, once I’ve finished with the case, filed all the forms—like I said, it should take a few days. After that, say next week sometime, can I make you dinner?”

“You cook?” I said.