Page 371 of Deep Pockets


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“Vicky. She has a griffin thing.”

He lays into his second falafel without comment.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“She’s handled.”

“Did I say anything?” he says.

“You were specifically silent,” I say. “So, yeah.”

He snorts.

I pause, thumbs poised, unsure what to say along with the griffin pic. I type Thanks for the trees. Then I change it to Here’s to griffins and mad forestry expertise, then I delete it.

I type Friend of yours? Then erase it. Then, Thinking about bow ties. Then I change it to This guy is asking where TF my bow tie is.

Delete.

This is all very disturbing, because I happen to be a master of texting the just-right thing to a woman, no matter what the circumstance, from pre-hookup banter to post-hookup emojis.

I don’t know what to text to Vicky. How can I not know?

But I do know. I really want to say, I loved kissing you. I forgot what it was like to kiss somebody because it felt like the only thing in the world worth doing. I forgot what it was like to sit and make things with somebody who gives a shit how curlicues line up. I wish you were here.

“Soooooo,” Brett says. “How is operation good cop going? Operation hot cop?”

I bristle at the name. “Just concentrate on your part.”

More specific silence.

I look up. “What?”

He nods at my phone. “Cat got your thumbs?”

“If I’m going to do a thing, I’m going to do it right.”

“Okay, Uncle Andy,” he jokes, meaning my dad.

“It’s under control,” I growl.

He falls silent, not loving the growl. Then, “You sure?”

I stare at the image. It’s a cartoon version, but fierce, protective. “She has a griffin thing. From when she first got to town.” I turn to him. “Did that PI ever say anything about any kind of bullying incident in her past?”

“No. Though bullying doesn’t always get reported. Her background is a little sparse. Her internet footprint is small for somebody her age.”

“Something big happened back in Prescott,” I say. “Somebody really did a number on her. Turned a lot of the town against her, it sounds like.”

“I can ask the PI about it.”

“Do it,” I say. “Somebody went after her, and I want to know who. I want to know what happened and I want to know who.”

I can feel his eyes on me. “Is this part of operation good cop?”

“Just get me the details.” I type Someone says hi and send it off.

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