Nicholas Sparks - Safe Haven

“Erin’s back in Manchester,” he said.

Bill Robinson, his captain, flipped burgers on the grill. “Again?”

“I told you that her friend has cancer, right? She feels like she’s got to be there for her friend.”

“That cancer’s bad stuff,” Bill said. “How’s Erin holding up?”

“Okay. I can tell she’s tired, though. It’s hard to keep going back and forth like she’s been doing.”

“I can imagine,” Bill said. “Emily had to do something like that when her sister got lupus. Spent two months up in Burlington in the middle of winter cooped up in a tiny apartment, just the two of them. Drove them both crazy. In the end, the sister packed up Em’s suitcases and set them outside the front door and said she was better off alone. Not that I could blame her, of course.”

Kevin took a pull on his beer, and because it was expected of him, he smiled. Emily was Bill’s wife and they’d been married almost thirty years. Bill liked to tell people they’d been the happiest six years of his life. Everyone at the precinct had heard the joke about fifty times in the past eight years, and a big chunk of those people were here now. Bill hosted a barbecue at his house every Memorial Day and pretty much everyone who wasn’t on duty showed up, not only out of obligation, but because Bill’s brother distributed beer for a living, a lot of which ended up here. Wives and husbands, girlfriends and boyfriends, and kids were clustered in groups, some in the kitchen, others on the patio. Four detectives were playing horseshoes and sand was flying around the stakes.

“Next time she’s back in town,” Bill added, “why don’t you bring her by for dinner? Em’s been asking about her. Unless, of course, you two would rather make up for lost time.” He winked.

Kevin wondered if the offer was genuine. On days like these, Bill liked to pretend he was just one of the guys instead of the captain. But he was hard-edged. Cunning. More a politician than a cop. “I’ll mention it to her.”

“When did she take off?”

“Earlier this morning. She’s already there.”

The burgers were sizzling on the grill, the drippings making the flames jump and dance.

Bill pressed down on one of the patties, squeezing out the juice, drying it out. The man knew nothing about barbecuing, Kevin thought. Without the juice they would taste like rocks — dry, flavorless, and hard. Inedible. “Hey, about the Ashley Henderson case,” Bill said, changing the subject. “I think we’re finally going to be able to indict. You did good work, there.”

“It’s about time,” Kevin said. “I thought they had enough a while ago.”

“I did, too. But I’m not the DA.” Bill pressed down on another patty, ruining it. “I also wanted to talk to you about Terry.”

Terry Canton had been Kevin’s partner for the last three years, but he’d had a heart attack in December and had been out of work since. Kevin had been working alone since then.

“What about him?”

“He’s not coming back. I just found out this morning. His doctors recommended that he retire and he decided they were right. He figures he’s already put in his twenty and his pension is waiting for him.”

“What does that mean for me?”

Bill shrugged. “We’ll get you a new partner, but we can’t right now with the city on a budget freeze. Maybe when the new budget passes.”

“Maybe or probably?”

“You’ll get a partner. But it probably won’t be until July. I’m sorry about that. I know it means more work for you, but there’s nothing I can do. I’ll try my best to keep your load manageable.”

“I appreciate that.”

A group of kids ran across the patio, their faces dirty. Two women exited the house carrying bowls of chips, probably gossiping. Kevin hated gossips. Bill motioned with his spatula toward the railing on the deck. “Hand me that plate over there, would you? I think these are getting close to being done.”

Kevin grabbed the serving platter. It was the same one that had been used to bring the hamburger patties out to the grill and he noted smears of grease and bits of raw hamburger. Disgusting. He knew that Erin would have brought a clean platter, one without bits of raw hamburger and grease. Kevin set the platter next to the grill.

“I need another beer,” Kevin said, raising his bottle. “You want one?”

Bill shook his head and ruined another burger. “I’m still working on mine right there. But thanks.”

Kevin headed toward the house, feeling the grease from the platter on his fingertips. Soaking in.

“Hey,” Bill shouted from behind him. Kevin turned.

“Cooler’s over there, remember?” Bill pointed to the corner of the deck.

“I know. But I want to wash my hands before dinner.”

“Make it back quick then. Once I set the platter out, it’s every man for himself.”

Kevin paused at the back door to wipe his feet on the mat before heading inside. In the kitchen, he walked around a group of chattering wives and toward the sink. He washed his hands twice, using soap both times. Through the window, he saw Bill set the platter of hot dogs and burgers on the picnic table, near the buns, condiments, and bowls of chips. Almost immediately flies caught the scent and descended on the feast, buzzing over the food and landing on the burgers. People didn’t seem to care as they formed a crazy line. Instead, they shooed the flies and loaded their plates, pretending that flies weren’t swarming.

Ruined burgers and a cloud of flies.

He and Erin would have done it differently. He wouldn’t have pressed the burgers with the spatula and Erin would have placed the condiments and chips and pickles in the kitchen so people could serve up there, where it was clean. Flies were disgusting and the burgers were as hard as rocks and he wasn’t going to eat them because the thought made him nauseated.

He waited until the platter of burgers had been emptied before heading back outside. He wandered to the table, feigning disappointment.

“I warned you they’d go fast.” Bill beamed. “But Emily’s got another platter in the refrigerator, so it won’t be long until round two. Grab me a beer, would you, while I go get it?”

“Sure,” Kevin said.

When the next batch of burgers was done, Kevin loaded a plate of food and complimented Bill and told him it looked fantastic. Flies were swarming and the burgers were dry and when Bill turned away, Kevin tossed the food into the metal garbage can on the side of the house. He told Bill that the burger tasted fantastic.

He stayed at the barbecue for a couple of hours. He talked with Coffey and Ramirez. They were detectives like him, except they ate the burgers and didn’t care that the flies were swarming. Kevin didn’t want to be the first one to leave, or even the second one, because the captain wanted to pretend he was one of the guys and he didn’t want to offend the captain. He didn’t like Coffey or Ramirez. Sometimes, when Kevin was around, Coffey and Ramirez stopped talking, and Kevin knew they had been talking about him behind his back. Gossips.

But Kevin was a good detective and he knew it. Bill knew it, and so did Coffey and Ramirez. He worked homicide and knew how to talk to witnesses and suspects. He knew when to ask questions and when to listen; he knew when people were lying to him and he put murderers behind bars because the Bible says Thou shalt not kill and he believed in God and he was doing God’s work by putting the guilty in jail.

Back at home, Kevin walked through the living room. He resisted the urge to call for Erin. If Erin had been here, the mantel would have been dusted and the magazines would have fanned out on the end table and there wouldn’t have been an empty bottle of vodka on the couch. If Erin had been here, the drapes would have been opened, allowing the sunlight to stretch across the floorboards. If Erin had been here, the dishes would have been washed and put away and dinner would have been waiting on the table and she would have smiled at him and asked him how his day had gone. Later they would make love because he loved her and she loved him.