Excerpts
It was late in the evening by the time Dan made it to Eden Hope playground. Despite the balmy evening weather and lingering rays of afternoon sunshine, the place was all but deserted. He pulled into the parking lot, noting only two other parked cars, although the playground itself was massive. Multicolored metal bars arched over the entryway as if beckoning children to come play, although Dan, not having been a kid for a long time now, only saw that the bars were beginning to rust.
The Plexiglas castle was immediately obvious, and not just because it towered at the playground’s edge. It was also cordoned off with caution tape, and when Dan stepped closer and crossed it, he saw why.
There was a deep red splash on the earth. Resisting the urge to touch it, Dan crouched to glance up at the metallic spires. Yep, Chief was right. There was no way to explain how one adult man could force another adult man to climb and jump. Physics would be heavily on the side of the man being forced onto the rail. Even if he managed to climb it, he wouldn’t have to jump.
Dan rose and tried to imagine Branden Bullard, Amanda’s friend, here on the night of the gala. He remembered that night. He tried to see the boy in his mind’s eye, climbing through the castle, meeting somebody … And then what? He inhaled deeply, hoping to catch some errant clue through his nose … like the deep, mellow fragrance of eucalyptus.
“Excuse me.” A hesitant female voice interrupted Dan’s thoughts, drawing him out of his process. It was her. She smelled of eucalyptus.
Everything following dinner tended to be a blur for Dan, as it had been for a while. With no one else in the house, he almost faded out. That was why his dinners with Boris and Rachel were such a touchstone—and what was today? How long had it been since he’d shared a meal with someone who cared about his day? At least a week. He rubbed his blurry eyes. He just didn’t have the energy to keep track of everything anymore. Was that a hallmark of depression? Dinners were simple, monotonous, and painfully small. He had it boiled down to the perfect plate: portion of protein, portion of carbs, and some fruit or vegetable combination. Most nights, he didn’t require more than a slab of chicken, half a cup of rice, and a handful of strawberries or zucchini.
After that there wasn’t much left to do. He would take a shower. The sun would set. Something would come on television. Yeah, some nights, he felt a vague shame, as if he was supposed to be getting out there. But that feeling was fleeting. A glass of wine, his most comfortable quilt, and a good murder mystery on television would satisfy him the way night clubs and starlit beaches inspired other people. Those things weren’t so fun alone. And he was forty-two now. The world wasn’t exactly alien, but it was ugly. He didn’t want to drift in that sludge, just looking for something to grab onto.
He didn’t go to sleep consciously thinking of Annie, but she was always lingering in the backyard of his thoughts.
No one had ever visited Dan at work before except Annie, so when he heard Manozza announce, “Dan, you’ve got company,” he almost wanted to rebut that no one knew he even worked here. But then Manozza clapped him on the shoulder and added conspiratorially, “You dog.” He gave Dan’s shoulder a little squeeze and Dan’s eyes followed his wolfish gaze to the curvaceous redhead seated by his desk. Dan swallowed. It was Kristin. Her hair was richly layered today—she must have just been to the salon—and she wore a navy-blue dress snug in the torso with a flared hem in a style from the sixties. The neckline scooped over her breasts in a way that was both classy and provocative. You couldn’t see anything, but you were pretty sure you wanted to.
“Hey, Dan,” Kristin chirped when her eyes lit on him. She didn’t get up, but she did lean in toward him. “I just wanted to come by and let you know you’re taking me to a wine tasting tonight at Top Drawer. They’re showcasing the stars of Burgundy, and I thought it might help open your mind up. I didn’t want you to be late picking me up. Come by at seven! We have to celebrate properly.”
She stood and leaned, pressing close for a big hug. “Congratulations,” she breathed, her voice brimming with actual joy. “You saved that girl’s life, tiger.” She pulled away again and punched him lightly on the arm. “See you at seven.”
Dan watched her go with a slackness in his jaw that he barely remembered to pull back up.