Page 47 of Split Decision

He answers on the first ring.

"Hey, baby." His voice has the stripped quality it gets when he's tired in the good way—emptied out by physical work rather than worry. "How's Atlanta?"

"Quiet. How's Vegas?"

"Loud. But not tonight." I can hear him moving, the familiar sounds of the facility hallways in the background. "How is the house?"

"Ours," I say. "That's the best word for it."

He's quiet for a moment, which is a different kind of quiet from his usual quiet. "I'm sorry I'm not there."

"I know. I'm sorry I'm not there either."

"We're both where we need to be."

"I know that too." I pull my knees up on the couch. "Luke, the community development officecame back with a follow-up request."

"Brandon told me. Marin's tracking it."

"I know she is." I pause. "Brandon mentioned she's been coming by the office a few times a week now."

"Is that a problem?"

I choose my words carefully. "I think she's very good at what she does."

"Andi."

"I don't have anything concrete," I say. "Just—keep your eyes open. When someone is very good at what they do, you have to ask yourself what they actually want out of it."

Luke is quiet on his end. Not dismissive. Thinking, processing, and assessing the possible angles.

"I'll talk to him," he says.

"Don't do it in a way that puts Brandon on the defensive. He trusts her."

"I know. That makes it harder all around."

"And she may be exactly what she appears to be. I just?—."

"I know," he says again, softer this time. "I hear you."

We talk for another hour about nothing consequential—a fight he watched on tape with Joe and Mack, therecord store Cami found in Charlotte, the tulip on the kitchen table, and a story about Shane that makes me laugh until I spill my wine. By the time we hang up, the empty house has settled into something warmer than absence.

I refill the wine and sit with the quarterly reports a little longer.

Marcus is waiting to hear from colleges. I wish I could’ve been there to help him fill out the applications, to see the pride on his face when he realized he is “good” enough for college, and to wait with him until he chose which one he wanted to attend.

The girl who found the door herself came back again today. It makes me wonder what’s happening at home. What is she facing alone? Not that I don’t trust Mrs. Alvarez to be available for whatever this child needs, but she is exactly why I started this venture in the first place. Helping those kids is what gives my life purpose and meaning. It helps erase the horrors of my past. It’s times like this when I struggle to tamp down the anger welling in my chest over the inequity of this covert, coordinated assault. Whoever is behind it is a cold, calculated monster, leaving innocent kids exposed to carry out a personal vendetta. And for what? Because I exposed our degenerate congressman?

Some things are still moving in the right direction.

That's good enough for me. For tonight, anyway.

LUKE

The Lindsey Blair Show tapes in a studio on the north end of the Strip, which is close enough to the training facility that Syndi wants to walk.

I draw the line at walking the Las Vegas Strip in a suit at two in the afternoon.