Chapter 5: Borrowed Shirt

Soren stepped between me and the deputy.

He didn't push.

He just stood there, six foot three in a grey coat, and the deputy's eyes went up and up.

"Detective Falk, Milwaukee Homicide," Soren said.

He held up a badge that wasn't going to be his for much longer, and I didn't think the deputy knew that.

"A judge released this woman two hours ago. She came for her mother's things. She's leaving."

"She's violating a restraining order."

"She was served thirty seconds ago. The law says she gets to comply."

The deputy looked at Carter.

Carter smiled at him with every tooth.

"Of course," Carter said. "We just want everyone safe."

"Then let her carry her mother's box to the car," Soren said, "and nobody gets arrested at a house with six cameras on it."

He tilted his head at the neighbors.

The woman with the stroller had her phone up.

The deputy's jaw worked.

"Five minutes," he said.

Chloe made a small noise.

"Carter," she said. "She's scaring me."

I couldn't help it.

I laughed.

It came out strange and cracked, and every person on that lawn heard it.

Soren carried the chest down the walk.

I followed with the cassette against my chest and didn't look back at the green door.

At the car, he slid the chest into the back seat and held the door for me.

My phone was a dead brick.

My bank card was a piece of plastic that Carter had already frozen.

I had a green coat, a cedar chest, and a detective who wasn't allowed to be my friend.

"You can't stay with Rosalyn," he said, once we were moving. "She lives with her mother's four cats and a nebulizer."

"Then a motel."

"With what?"

I didn't answer.

"I have a spare room," Soren said. "It has a bed and a lock on the inside. You can put the key under your pillow."

I looked at his hands on the wheel.

They were big and scarred across the knuckles and very still.

"Why would I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," he said.

"But you don't have anywhere else, and I owe you a year."

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