will be another night I cry myself to sleep, all the while being grateful for the life I’ve been allowed to live, including my overprotective, overbearing dad who I can see now has only ever wanted what’s best for me by keeping me safe and protecting me from the ugliness that seems to be infecting the world.
“Keep your eyes open,” he reminds me as we make our way up the cracked concrete walkway.
His hand goes to my back to steady me when I catch the toe of my boot on the uneven terrain.
“Careful.”
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“You good?”
Before I can answer, the door on the right of the duplex swings open, the screen door hitting the side of the house with a loud crack.
“Matthews,” the woman standing in the doorway grunts as we approach.
I don’t make a sound when he steps in front of me. Any other day I might get mad, but this is a neighborhood I was never allowed in, and although at the time I thought my parents were being elitist jerks, I can see clearly they had their reasons.
A car alarm goes off down the street, inciting several unruly dogs to begin barking, but the woman in front of us doesn’t blink an eye or look in the direction of the noise. No one else opens their doors, no curtains flutter from curiosity within. I don’t imagine someone calling for help would draw much attention, and definitely not someone willing to offer a helping hand.
“Doris,” Colton says as we draw closer. He stops several feet away, and I use the opportunity to take in all the information that I can.
This woman doesn’t seem nervous, but more annoyed that we’re interrupting her day. Her fingers flex in and out several times before she lifts a hand to scratch at an already irritated spot on her arm.
“Who’s the new trainee? She looks a little young to be a detective.”
“I’m here to talk about Destiny, Doris.”
“She took off again. I told social services last week I didn’t know where that damn girl is. You know they’re trying to take me to court because she isn’t going to school. I told that lady that she refuses to go, and the last time I tried to make her, she hit me in the face. Did social services tell you that? I’m not going to jail over her again.”
“Doris—”
“Ever since she took off with Hershel, she’s been a different kid.” Her jaw works back and forth between her words, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to deduce this woman has had her own struggles with drugs. Although not as filthy as we found her deceased daughter, it’s clear it’s been a couple of days since she’s seen the inside of a shower. It makes me wonder if she has running water, another thing I’ve always taken for granted.
“Doris—”
“I won’t. I’m not going to jail!” she screeches, her bony arms crossing over her chest with defiance.
“Police were called out to the abandoned house over on the hill.”
Doris swallows, and I can see it in her eyes when she realizes why we’re here. We don’t even have to say the words, and this woman is already cycling through the stages of grief.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes because despite all that’s going on, this woman has lost a child.
“She’s dead?” Her chin quivers heavily.
“She is. An overdose is suspected, but it’ll take some time before toxicology comes back.”
“Was Hershel there?”
“She was alone in the house, Doris. Someone called into the anonymous tip line.”
Tears roll down Doris’s cheeks, but she doesn’t crumple the way I believed she would at the news. Her affect is a little flat, but it’s clear she’s hurting.
“Gone? She’s gone?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m so sorry for your loss. Detective Winston will probably be by in the next week or so. He’s going to have some questions about who she’s been hanging out with.”
“I’m not telling him shit,” she snaps.
Colton nods his head in understanding before reaching into his shirt pocket for a business card. “There’s a number for a grief hotline on the back, Doris. Call them if you need someone to talk to.”
She snaps the card out of his hand, ignoring it when it flutters to the ground.
“Did she have any money on her?”
My head snaps in her direction, but it’s the clench in Colton’s strong jaw that garners most of my attention.
“She didn’t have any possessions on her, Doris.”
“Personal effects can be picked up at the coroner’s office, right?”
There’s no