I brush my fingers through his whiskers. He hasn’t shaved in days. “They let you go. Just like that?”
“I thought about that for a long time. Everett knew it was our word against his, and he and Stevie let McAllister go, too. There’s not enough to charge Everett with, but McAllister’s definitely going to jail. He signed off on the accident, and there’s too much evidence for the DA not to be able to make an arrest. We might have to be happy with that.”
I’ll never be happy with that. “And there’s nothing on Stevie—again.”
“No.”
“Then that’s it.” I wilt.
Rick adjusts the bed into a sitting position and nudges me back against the pillow. “What do you mean, that’s it? You did it. You proved it wasn’t an accident. You ran with your gut, and it paid off. I never would have done what you did, I never would have believed it was anything more than impatience and a lapse in judgment. My men lost their lives because Everett held a grudge against me. Even if we can’t connect him, we know he did it. That should mean something.”
“It does. I just wanted more.”
“How about this for more?” he asks, holding my hand.
I suck in a breath. I didn’t think he would ask me so soon. I thought we’d live together for a while. Find a routine in Old Harbor, maybe figure out how to split our time between there and Cedar Hill since now that he knows what happened wasn’t his fault, he’d stop hiding and go back to work.
“I talked to Newsom. Just because we might not be able to make the charges against Everett stick, you still busted that accident wide open. He’s going to give you your reporting job back. As soon as you feel ready to go back to work.”
My eyes widen, incredulous. “What? What about Stevie?”
“She’s lying low. In Simpson’s suicide note, he said she and Everett supplied him with Sweet to use his addiction to keep him in line. With their engagement announcement not long ago, she’s keeping her head down. She can’t afford a concrete connection to Sweet, and she won’t bother you anymore. You’re safe to move back to the city.”
“But—” But I don’t want to move back to the city. I don’t want to work for the Times. I want him to ask me what I thought he was going to ask me, and I press my hands to my eyes. Stars burst against my eyelids. He’s putting up a wall between us. I can feel the grit of the cement under my fingertips where it’s going to harden and once again, he’ll be alone and I won’t be able to touch him.
He grunts as he stands from the bed, his eyes dimming. “You should call Talia. She’s going to want to see you.”
“I lost my purse. I don’t have my phone.”
Rick won’t meet my gaze, and he pulls his cell from the back pocket of his jeans. “They found it in an alley near the construction site. The manual was still inside, and the CHPD kept it for evidence. They’re going to have another OSHA investigator go over everything, maybe he’ll be able to find something that connects Everett better than we have. The son of a bitch is guilty, but we’ve done all we can.” He huffs a laugh. “It’s probably the only time I’ll be able to rub it in Beau’s face that the site is exactly the way we need it for a little while longer.”
He connects the call, and says when Beau answers, “Devyn’s awake. She wants to speak to Talia.” Handing the phone to me, he kisses my forehead.
“Where are you going?” I ask as he steps away from the bed. Steps away from me.
“I have to go home.”
“Rick...”
His back is stiff as he walks out of the room.
With a sinking heart, I realize his definition of home doesn’t include me.