Page 31 of Carter

Right. Work. He’s working right now, and that’s what I’m here for. This isn’t a chatting session.

“I don’t know. I think it’ll be easier if you ask me questions. Specific questions. Where are the blanks? Where do you need more information?”

“What do you remember about the man and the woman?” he asks.

I blink and sit back in my chair, trying to pull up the memories I’ve spent so much time trying to bury. It never really works, but the images have always been foggy.

“I remember that the man was taller than Ryan.”

“How much taller?”

“Few inches.”

“And he was six-foot, right?”

My eyes narrow at him. “You remember that?”

“I always remember details of my cases.”

My chest warms, and I don’t know why. But I do know that his comment is just one more thing to help me trust him.

I nod. “Yeah, Ryan was six-foot.”

“Safe to say the man was between six-two and six-five?”

“Yes.”

“What about build?”

“Skinny. I remember thinking that Ryan could have taken him, had there not been a weapon involved.” I nod as I speak the words, sure this is true. Sometimes I wonder if my memory is wrong, but I know this is right.

“So, skinnier than Ryan?”

“Yes.”

He nods and writes some things down.

“What about the woman?”

“She was small. Short and petite. Maybe up to my shoulders. She had on those shoes that nurses wear.”

His eyes narrow slightly and he looks up at me. “Like nursing clogs?” I nod. “That’s new.”

“No, I definitely told the officers that at the hospital.”

He digs through the file and pulls out some papers, scanning them all. “I’m not saying you’re lying, Carter, but it’s not here.”

I shake my head and take a few deep breaths so I don’t start panicking again. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it doesn’t.

“Hey, don’t get discouraged. We’re doing this now. We’re going to make it right.” He gets up from his seat. “Do you want coffee? Water? Tea?”

“Tea is fine.”

“Come with me,” he says, moving around his desk and toward the door. I follow him out and down the hall to a small break room. “There are at least ten different kinds of tea here. Not sure what you want.”

I browse the different tea bags and pull out the ginger one. He takes it, gets water going for it, and starts his coffee at the same time.

“You work at a coffee shop or something?” I ask.