Page 6 of Where the Fields Don’t Reach

“He ate what was in the blue container, Dawkins. The blue one. In the back, on the second shelf.”

“No.” Hadley grimaced, and this time, she didn’t stop herself from rubbing her chest. The thought of eating something that had been in that refrigerator for at least two years was enough to make one sick. “That’s disgusting.”

Julian leaned back in Reed’s chair as he continued to eat his breakfast, not losing his appetite over the blue container in the least. He appeared entirely at home, and Hadley came to terms with the possibility that she might have to kill him for appearing so comfortable in Reed’s seat.

“How’s Mason?”

The question about her brother came out of left field, although she’d been expecting it. Julian had just taken his time getting there.

“He’s adjusting,” Hadley replied carefully.

“Adjusting,” Julian repeated, the word a question by itself.

“It’s been rough,” Hadley admitted, her gaze drifting to the window. Main Street was becoming slightly busier, as was usual this time of the morning. Mrs. Foster should be making an appearance any time now, and Hadley certainly wouldn’t mind the interruption. “Anyone would have trouble adjusting after spending twenty years behind bars for a murder he didn’t commit, Ramos.”

Julian shoved the last bite of donut in his mouth while she somehow refrained from tacking on her involvement with such an injustice. After all, it had been her testimony that had sent her brother to prison in the first place. Julian chewed slowly, clearly waiting for her to continue. He had always been good at waiting.

She set her coffee down on the desk behind her without turning around, not wanting him to catch the tremor in her hand. The little hot ache behind her sternum had spread up into her throat.

She’d only been ten years old when her brother had come stumbling out of Cox’s woods with Emily Esten’s blood on his hands and a story no one in the courtroom had believed. Mason had blamed the Threshing Man for killing Emily, yet the prosecutor had convinced Hadley to take the stand and testify to what she’d witnessed that night.

The jury had believed her.

The judge had believed her.

And their family had never been the same.

“He’s drinking,” Hadley reluctantly admitted, but giving up that information meant she could keep other private matters to herself. “Not like our father. Not yet. But he’s drinking, and I haven’t really brought it up to him.”

“Have you tried?” Julian asked softly.

“I just said not yet, Ramos.” Hadley crossed her arms and tried to even out her breathing before continuing. “Don’t push it.”

“Mm,” Julian replied, neutral. He leaned forward and reached for his coffee. “Has the settlement money come in?”

“No. I expect it to be released before the end of the year. Mason has been building furniture in a shed he put up himself to tide himself over,” Hadley explained, finding it easier to keep going now that she had started. “It’s behind the house. He started building it in February and had it usable by April. He’s been working out of it ever since. It began with a small bench, and now he’s making chairs. He sells them at the farmers’ market over in Bram County on Saturday mornings.”

“Because he won’t take money from you,” Julian guessed.

“He won’t take money from me,” Hadley confirmed.

“Did you offer?”

“I offered the first week,” Hadley replied, picking her coffee back up now that she’d calmed her nerves. “Let’s just say that I haven’t offered since.”

“And you two?” Julian asked, his eyes steady on hers.

“We’re working through it.”

Julian’s expression flickered, just enough to tell her that he really was concerned for her well-being. He didn’t push, though. He was a good detective. He was a better friend.

“All right,” he said simply.

Her shoulders eased down, and the ache in her chest started to subside. She’d reassured him enough that he was willing to let the matter drop.

“So, tell me,” Hadley directed while studying him. “Why are you really in Whistlerun?”

“The sheriff asked me to meet him over in Emberwood,” Julian replied as he lifted his legs to the desk and crossed them at the ankles. “I’m due over there in about an hour, so I had some time to kill. Besides, Maisy’s coffee is the best.”