by Addison Fox
Troy had already dropped back onto the couch, his pose relaxed. Confident, even. And why wouldn’t it be? He had nothing to lose.
“This isn’t going to work.”
“It will work.”
“But I didn’t see his face.”
“But you saw something. Likely more than you realize, actually. Desiree is trained to do this. She has a way of bringing an image to life. You just have to trust the process.”
Trust it? How?
* * *
The sense of looming disaster didn’t fade, but strangely, as she and Troy walked up the front walkway of Desiree Colton’s home, it wasn’t getting worse. Maybe, Evangeline thought, it was the small scattering of toys on the front lawn that calmed her. Or perhaps the warm, welcoming smile on the face of the woman who held the door open for them.
“Troy.” Desiree Colton held out her hands to her brother, enfolding him in a tight hug before turning to face Evangeline. “I’m Desiree. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”
Evangeline took the proffered hand, and Desiree’s slim fingers—what Evangeline thought of as artist’s fingers—clasped hers. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m sure my brother railroaded you into this seeing as how we only spoke a few hours ago. So come on in, we’ll have a glass of wine and some dinner and relax a bit.”
“I’m on the clock, Dez,” Troy said as they followed her into her home, his hands full of the tray of lasagna they’d picked up in town.
Without skipping a beat, Desiree tossed a look over her shoulder for her brother. “No wine for you, then.” She reached out and gave Evangeline’s hand another squeeze. “More for us, then.”
In a matter of minutes, Desiree had taken the hot tray into the kitchen, poured two glasses of wine and a seltzer for Troy and settled them all in the living room. Evangeline had no idea how the woman had done it, but everything moved seamlessly. Effortlessly, really.
And Desiree managed this all while looking picture-perfect at the end of a long day and keeping up with a toddler.
One whose toys were all over the room but who was nowhere in sight.
Before she could ask, Troy beat her to it. “Where are Danny and Stavros?”
“Danny had a late nap and if we don’t wear him out a bit he’ll be up until midnight. Stavros ran him down to the park for a bit to run out the wiggles.”
Evangeline could only assume she’d given Desiree a blank stare, because the woman smiled and added, “Also known as some serious two-year-old energy.”
“Ah.” Evangeline nodded, the picture in her head of an energetic child suddenly making much more sense.
“I’m also not above admitting I had another motive, as well.”
“Subtle, Dez,” Troy said, glancing at his sister from where he sat beside her on the couch.
“Subtlety went out the window with this whole year.” Desiree leaned forward, her expression eager. “Troy mentioned some of the things that you’ve been dealing with. I’d like to help however I can.”
“I appreciate that.” While she had initially said the words as a platitude, as they came out, Evangeline quickly realized they were completely true. She did appreciate the help. More, she appreciated the idea that someone besides Troy might believe her. Especially since her own doubts had begun to waver since that afternoon with the incident on her front porch. “You need me to tell you everything that’s happened?”
“Yes, that will help. I’d like to get a sense of what you’re dealing with. It will also help you later, when we try to work through the images.”
Evangeline took a sip of her wine, Desiree’s kind eyes and steady manner more of a relief than she ever could have imagined. “I’ve only ever been on the other side of it, looking at police sketches after they’ve been generated. But Troy said that you’ll be able to pull images from me, even if I can’t remember what the man I saw looks like.”
Desiree nodded. “That’s mostly true. The mind is fascinating in the way that we capture and snag fragments of images. My job to take those fragments and put them together into a complete picture.”
The process as Desiree described it made sense and Evangeline was surprised to realize how excited she was to get started. “That’s an interesting way to describe it. I never thought of what you do in that way, but I can see how a picture could come together, piece by piece.”
“It feels like it shouldn’t work, but it does. I’ve done hundreds and hundreds of sketches through the years, and I’m always amazed to see how a face comes to light on the page.”
“Dez is one of the best,” Troy said with pride. It was clear the siblings were close—Evangeline saw that from the moment they’d arrived—but it was equally nice to see how he supported her.
Yet one more experience she’d never had as an only child. Nor had she seen much pride in her parents’ eyes. Especially her father’s. Oh, sure, he was proud the day she graduated from law school, but that emotion never seemed to last. Never seemed to overcome the anger and disillusionment he carried around for life.
Shaking the bitter memories off, Evangeline focused on Troy and Desiree. She wasn’t here to be maudlin and it was actually nice to be out for an evening talking with other people. “How long have you worked for the GGPD?”
“Almost ten years.” Desiree took a sip of her wine, considering. “I’ve been an artist my whole life, and I got interested in all things police procedural as part of processing the loss of my mother. Doing the police sketches seemed like a natural fit.”
“It’s a tremendous way to use your talents.”
Once again, the discussion she had with Troy about his mother filled her thoughts. How sad that both Troy and Desiree had often felt they couldn’t celebrate their mother’s memory. She was a person. One that they loved. There was nothing about those memories that should be erased or diminished.
“Thank you. I like to think it makes Mom proud.”
“I’ve no doubt it does.”
Before Evangeline could say anything else, a delighted giggle filtered in from outside. She heard a deeper laugh and then another chuckle and saw Desiree’s eyes alight with excitement. “My boys are home.”
The next half hour flew by in a blur. Evangeline hadn’t spent a lot of time with small children. She’d babysat when she was younger, but since becoming an adult, kids hadn’t been a big part of her life. And in a matter of minutes, little Danny had her wrapped around his finger. Or, she thought with a rueful smile, his chubby little fist.
Although he took a few minutes to warm up, by the time Evangeline took a seat next to him on the floor, nodding to his mix of words and baby babble as he showed her his toys, he had become her chattering little best friend.
“Vange. Lean. Here—” He held out his hands, full of a fuzzy teddy bear. “Bear.”
Evangeline’s heart melted a little at the way he said her name. Vange. Lean. It had a sweet little ring to it coming from the mouth of a two-year-old. “What is your bear’s name?”
“Mike.”
“His favorite character from his favorite movie,” Desiree was quick to add as she joined them with a seat on the floor. She shot Stavros a saucy smile as she did. “A movie that has quickly become Stavros’s favorite, too.”
Stavros shrugged, his smile equally cheeky and even more smitten than Desiree’s. “I like little green sidekicks, what can I say?”
Evangeline had warmed to Stavros as quickly as she did to Desiree and Danny. The handsome ER doctor had an easy way about him, confident and competent, yet still warm and approachable. He’d extended his hand as soon as he walked in the door, introducing himself around a wiggling armful of toddler, and immediately putting her at ease. She imagined it was the skill that came in handy as he dealt with people in some of their most challenging personal moments.
The warm welcome made her glad she had come. Or, more to the point, gl
ad Troy had suggested they visit with his sister and her family. She was still a little spooked at the idea of doing the police sketch, but had enough confidence that Desiree knew what she was doing that it would be a worthwhile experience.
It was only as she glanced up from her careful perusal of Mike’s fur and button nose that she caught Troy’s steady gaze. That sensual hazel had turned golden in the late afternoon light filtering into the living room and, for an unguarded moment, she felt herself caught up in it. Caught up in him.
She was captivated.
And while her life might be upside down at the moment, going wrong at every turn, it was increasingly difficult to think of Troy Colton as anything but absolutely right.
Chapter 9
“You most certainly did walk past her house every day for a solid month,” Desiree shot back across the table, tossing her wadded-up napkin for good measure. “Little Lisa Baker. I remember it like it was yesterday.”
Troy felt the heat creeping up his neck but made one, final valiant effort to redeem himself. “You make me sound like some sort of hopeless fool.”
“You were a hopeless fool!” Desiree cackled, her glee at his expense more than evident. “A sixth grader in love with an eighth grader. Like that ever works.”
“That’s some serious pining,” Evangeline added.
Troy turned to her, deliberately ignoring his sister’s eye roll. “You’re picking on me, too?”
Evangeline shrugged, her smile wide. “If the shoe fits.”
Although his overt intention had been to bring Evangeline to Desiree’s to do the police sketch, as the evening wore on, he couldn’t deny how helpful the time had been to simply allow her to relax.
He could watch it happening, too. Her smile came easier, and the haunted look he had seen in her eyes had vanished around the same time she got on the floor to play with Danny.
What was funny was how neatly she and his sister turned the tables on him. Desiree’s love of telling embarrassing stories—most often with him as their subject—had rung true this evening. But those stories had delivered the added benefit of putting Evangeline at ease. Maybe at his expense, but it was wonderful to see her smile all the same.
Which was the exact opposite reaction he should be having. He’d brought her here to get his sister’s professional help. Not to notice the easing stress in Evangeline’s shoulders or her smile. Even if that smile was beautiful.
He’d battled those wayward thoughts all evening. Even on the drive over here, as they stopped to pick up dinner, he had to force himself not to think of the evening as a date. Yes, he was bringing a woman to his sister’s home. And yes, he had an interest in her that went well beyond the platonic. But this wasn’t a date.
So why did it feel like one?
Embarrassing sixth grade stories aside, it amazed Troy to realize how comfortable he felt. On most dates, he worried about what to say or how the evening was going or how the evening might wrap up. But right now, sitting here with Evangeline and his family, he was at ease.
And he reminded himself as he reached for his glass of seltzer, this wasn’t a date.
Was. Not. A. Date.
Without warning, Evangeline’s comments about his mother filtered back into his thoughts. He meant what he had said to her earlier. Most people found it hard to talk about Amanda Colton and the way she had died.
Only Evangeline hadn’t shied away from it. Instead, she had shown compassion as well as a willingness to speak of the dead. It was so simple. For something so complex as grief and loss and all the ways you coped with childhood trauma well into adulthood, the simplicity of just speaking of his mother was humbling.
And somewhere deep inside, he was grateful.
“Do you think it might be time to get started?” Evangeline asked the question of Desiree, but her gaze quickly shifted to Troy.
“I’m ready if you are,” his sister agreed, her tone easy and warm.
Desiree had excused herself about a half hour before to put Danny to bed. After returning, she had sat back down at the table and continued with the discussion as if she’d never left. Troy was pleased to see how she quietly allowed Evangeline to pick the time instead of interrupting their after-dinner conversation.
It was one more thing about his sibling that he admired. Not just her compassion, but her ability to acknowledge where someone else was coming from. Desiree hadn’t missed Evangeline’s wide eyes and nervous demeanor when they had arrived earlier at the house. But in her own inimitable fashion, his sister had looked past it all and brick by brick, helped Evangeline take down the emotional wall that had locked her in. It was a skill, and one he didn’t compliment her for often enough.
“Troy and I will take dish duty,” Stavros said with a big smile, standing and picking up plates.
“I say we take it and run, Evangeline,” Desiree said. She stood and gave Stavros a smacking kiss before turning back to Evangeline with a wink.
At ease with the lighthearted moment, Evangeline smiled and nodded. “I think you’re right.”
In moments, the women had disappeared to Desiree’s studio, leaving Troy and Stavros alone in the kitchen.
“She’s going through a tough time.” Stavros started right in while setting the dishes in the sink.
“She is. I hope Dez can help her with the sketch.”
“If anyone can, it’s your sister. That woman does the most amazing things with a pencil and paper. I’m lucky if I can draw a stick figure and even then, it’s never in proportion to a house or a tree.”
“I feel like I’m violating some sort of important brotherly responsibility,” Troy said as dumped the rest of the plates in the sink before slapping Stavros on the back. “But you really love my sister. It makes me happy.”
“More than my own life. I don’t know how it happened, and as fast as it did, too. But yes, I love her. And I love Danny. And I love the life we’re making. It’s nothing I thought would ever happen for me. Especially not after losing Sammy.”
It was sort of amazing how Desiree and Danny had come into Stavros’s life, just as Leanne had come into his father’s so many years ago. A blessing, long after it seemed there wasn’t any good left to experience or feel.
Stavros had lost his baby daughter in such a horrible way. He’d thrown himself into his work and found a way forward, but he’d done it all alone.
Troy could still remember Desiree’s concerns as she’d spoken of her growing feelings for the doctor. How she cared for him but wasn’t sure if Stavros could find it in his heart to love again.
To live again.
Yet he had. They’d found their way and would continue to find their way. Together.
“You’ve got an eye for the pretty lawyer.”
Stavros’s quiet words hit him like a shot to the chest and Troy nearly bobbled the rinsed plate he was loading into the dishwasher. “It’s not like that. She’s in trouble. And I’ve known her for a long time. And she’s—”
He broke off as Stavros grinned. “In trouble. Yeah. I get it. Doesn’t mean she isn’t pretty and pretty great, all at the same time.”
“She is those things, but this isn’t like that. I’m helping her. Protecting her.”
“You can help her and protect her and still think she’s pretty great.”
“It’s just not like that.”
Stavros handed him a dish, his stare direct. “But maybe it could be.”
* * *
“Was the man taller than the woman or shorter?”
“Taller. Much taller.”
“Taller, like he loomed over her?”
Desiree’s question stopped her and Evangeline closed her eyes, replaying the memory in her mind’s eye. She’d believed the man a lot taller than the woman but now that she thought about it, had he been?
Her eyes popped open, even as the memory sti
ll lingered in her thoughts. “Well, maybe he wasn’t as tall as I think. It was more that he had a big, hulking body to him. He had height on her, yes, but it was also the breadth and heft of his frame.”
“Good. That’s good,” Desiree said as she sketched.
Evangeline waited as Desiree made some changes to the paper in front of her, using her pencil and eraser in equal measure. The whole process had been interesting, and far more methodical than she could have imagined. Each of Desiree’s questions built on the one before, and many were things Evangeline wouldn’t have immediately thought of.
The man’s height was an example. Yes, he was tall. Definitely taller than the woman. She had seen that clearly while they struggled at the end of the alley. But now, being forced to think about it, she realized that some of that feeling of height was also tied to his solid form. It wasn’t like there was a foot’s difference between him and the woman. Instead, his physical bulk had given her the perception he was so much bigger.
Height hadn’t been the only revelation, either. The man had worn a hat and Evangeline had struggled to see his eyes. But with Desiree’s questions, she realized she had gotten a solid look at his chin and neck. When pressed, she could bring that image back in her mind’s eye. The rounded chin, and the fleshy throat beneath it. He had a heavy, bulldog-like look that now took real shape in her mind. Like it had been there all along, but she just needed to think about his face in pieces instead of as a single memory.
Desiree continued making tweaks to the paper and Evangeline used the lull in questions to look around the room. Desiree’s studio was just a converted bedroom within the house, but it had her artist’s stamp on it in every way.
While the artistic components were expected, she hadn’t counted on the pin-neat desk or the state-of-the-art computer mounted on the surface. Desiree had excitedly showed her the sketch program she’d use later, after the initial session, to work and refine the images Evangeline had provided. The tool was brand new, an investment the GGPD had made in expanding its capabilities, and Desiree was like a kid at Christmas, she was so excited to use it.
