Page 42 of Shadow Justice

Blue nudged her hand. Holly realized she’d stopped petting him.

“I need to sit down,” she said.

Reid moved immediately, reaching out with his other hand for her to take if she needed it. She didn’t take it. Not at first. She made it three steps toward the living room before her knees felt unreliable and her pride became less important than staying upright. She caught his wrist, and his hand turned under hers, warm and steady, fingers closing around hers without trapping them.

He walked her to the couch. The quilt he’d slept under was folded at one end, his laptop open on the coffee table with Hopper Shaw’s name and a county property record visible on the screen.

Seeing it made the whole day tilt again. Hopper outside the window. Hopper in the support group. Hopper watching the door. Hoyt dead.

Holly sat hard on the couch, and Blue jumped up beside her and climbed halfway into her lap. He settled against her, eyes on her face.

Reid brought her water. She took the glass, pretending fear wasn’t eating through her ribs. The water was cold and tasted faintly metallic from the tap. She drank three swallows, then held the glass in both hands.

“Should I close the shop?” she asked carefully.

Reid sat on the other side of her, leaving enough space that she could pretend she wasn’t aware of every inch between them. “That’s your choice.”

She stared at the water. “How am I supposed to open the doors and hand people coffee when someone might be watching them and choosing them as their next victim?”

“We’ll talk to Claire in the morning. She’ll have more information by then. Once you have the facts, you can decide.”

She gave a short, unsteady laugh. “You sound like a lawyer.” He just gave her a small smile, and she rubbed a hand over her face. “I don’t want to close.”

He gripped her hand and squeezed. “I understand that.”

She looked away before he could see tears gather again, but she didn’t pull out of his grip. “I can’t stand the thought of someone else dying after walking out of my shop.”

“You don’t have to open,” he said. “Or you open late. We review the cameras, call Maya, limit hours, make changes. You don’t have to decide the rest of your life tonight after finding out a man was murdered.”

“It feels like the decision is already being made for me.”

“Only if you let whoever did this take the choice from you.”

She tugged her hand away. “Choice.”

Reid went still beside her. The lamp still cast warm light across the rug. Blue lay his head on her lap. The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen, and the street outside stayed quiet. But the thing between them, the old thing, the wound they’d both been stepping around with too much care, lifted its head.

Holly set the glass on the coffee table because her hands weren’t steady enough to hold it anymore. “You’re very concerned with me having choices now.”

“Holly.”

“No, don’t Holly me.” She turned toward him, and the fear had somewhere to go at last, turning hot and sharp because anger was easier to handle now. “You keep saying all the right things. You’re careful and steady. You let me decide about the shop, about the couch, about the alarm, about everything you can make into a decision. And part of me wants to be grateful because it’s nice, isn’t it? Being respected after the fact.”

He didn’t close down as she expected. She wanted him defensive. She wanted him to argue, to give her something simple to push against. Instead, he sat a few inches away, eyes tired but shoulders squared as if he’d known the blow was coming and had no intention of dodging it.

“I earned that,” he said.

“Yes, you did.”

“I can’t change the past.”

“Then what are you trying to do?”

“Not repeat it.”

The answer made her heart break a little more. The couch was too small. She had to move.

She stood, shifting Blue’s head off her lap. He whined and tracked her, but didn’t follow when she paced to the other side of the coffee table.