“How’s work?”
Charles shrugged. “Same old. How do you like working here?”
“It’s not so bad.” Arlan took a sip of his water. What he really wanted was something hot to drink. His insides were getting colder from the water. He tried his best not to shiver, but he couldn’t help it.
“Shit. I didn’t think about the temperature. Why don’t we go into your room?” He helped Arlan hop down from the tailgate then followed Arlan to his room. Arlan was grateful he’d left the heat on when he’d left. The room was nice and toasty.
“Not so bad,” Charles said as he looked around. “For a single person. It’s nicer than I thought it would be.”
“It’s temporary until I get back on my feet.” Arlan unzipped his jacket and tossed it aside. “Sorry, I don’t have any food or snacks to offer you.”
“Nah, you’re good.” Charles made himself at home on Arlan’s bed. He leaned back on one elbow, his legs draped over the side. “I had dinner before I drove here.”
“How are the kids?” Arlan went to the coffeepot and made himself a cup of coffee. “I miss them.”
“They miss you, too.” Charles grabbed the remote and turned the television on.
Not knowing what was wrong with Charles was killing Arlan. Charles was a homebody, and coming out to the motel just to chill wasn’t his style. There was something eating at him. Arlan just wished he would open up.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” Arlan couldn’t take the suspense any longer. Charles was trying hard to hide it, but there was pain in his eyes.
“And that’s my cue to leave.” Charles got up.
“Are we breaking up already?” Arlan asked. “If that’s the case, then I want custody of your cat. I grew very fond of Tat.”
That was the cat’s actual name. Charles had let his daughter name him when she was four. She couldn’t pronounce the letter C. She also had trouble saying Arlan’s name. She simply called him Alf. That was what he loved about her, even if the name reminded him of that furry alien from a long-ago sitcom.
Charles rubbed the back of his neck. “Funny you should say that.”
Arlan’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t stand Chloe, but he never wanted his brother to suffer.
“What happened?” Arlan asked. “You two are the happiest couple I know.”
Charles sat on the corner of the bed and cleared his throat, unshed tears in his eyes. “Looks can be deceiving.” He pressed his hands against his knees and looked toward the ceiling, clearly staving off tears. “She had an affair.”
Arlan was dumbstruck. He wasn’t sure what to say. What the hell did anyone say to that? “You’re sure?”
“I came here to specifically not talk about this.” Now it was anger and betrayal in his eyes. “I just came here to…” Charles sighed. “To… Hell, I’m not sure why.” Charles scrubbed his hands over his head. “I just needed to get out of the house.”
Arlan sat next to him. “What do you need from me?”
Charles leaned over and pressed his lips against Arlan’s forehead. He stayed that way for a moment before he spoke. “Just for you to be yourself.” Charles leaned back. “So, who’s the guy?”
Before Arlan could answer, he heard raised voices. Curious, he got up and opened his door. Just outside the office was a short, plump woman with the reddest hair Arlan had ever seen.
She was yelling at Mike, who stood just outside his office door, looking a bit helpless.
“Someone is going to tell me what is going on.” She shoved a finger toward Mike’s face. In Arlan’s opinion, Mike was displaying a lot of control considering some stranger was reading him the riot act.
Then again, for all Arlan knew, Mike and the lady were acquainted.
Lewis was right behind Mike, looking between the woman and Arlan. When their eyes locked, Arlan’s heart beat a little faster.
“Ma’am,” Mike said with patience in his voice, “the sheriff is on his way. He can answer your questions better than I can.”
“Sheriff?” Tears welled up in the lady’s eyes. “Why does a sheriff need to talk to me?”
Was this Nessie’s mom? Crap. How had Arlan forgotten about her?
“What’s going on?” Charles asked from behind Arlan. “She seems pretty shaken.”
“I think that’s the mother of the guy who was involved in that killing.”
“The dead guy or the one on the run?” Charles asked.
“I have no idea. I assumed the one on the run, but I could be wrong.” Since Arlan had no clue