The Way to Her Heart

by Amy Reece

  “Oh God, Josh! I’m sorry.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah, but it’s more than that. Look.” He took her hand again. “I will always miss my dad and my brother.” His eyes filled as he spoke. “But their deaths made me take a long, hard look at my life. Well, at least I have lately. I was pretty brain-dead for the last year.”

  Now she comforted him, placing her other hand atop both theirs. “You’re an amazing guy, Josh.”

  He smiled at her, a bit crookedly, and slowly withdrew his hand. “Hold that thought, okay?”

  She had no idea what he was talking about but didn’t want to sound stupid. “Sure. Anyway, you’re still popular.”

  “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. You ready for dessert?” He removed her nearly empty plate, returning a moment later with a slice of chocolate caramel cake.

  “Aww, no Ding Dongs?”

  “Smartass.”

  She giggled and dug into the rich cake, which was, of course, delicious.

  ***

  “Mike? Miss Abeyta is here to see you. Again.”

  Bernie stood at the reception desk in the police substation and narrowed her eyes as the receptionist added the unnecessary last word. It bordered on a snarkiness unwelcome in a public servant.

  “Aw shit. Just what I needed this afternoon. Send her on back, but give me two minutes, okay?” He apparently didn’t realize he was on speaker. Or maybe he did and simply didn’t care.

  She waited, impatiently tapping her foot, to be buzzed through to the back. Detective Garcia was finishing a sandwich and gestured for her to take the seat across from his desk. He finished chewing and took a swig from his soda before wrapping up his trash and brushing a few crumbs off his desk.

  “I don’t think eating at your desk is very healthy.”

  He chuckled and wiped his mouth. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot about being a homicide detective that isn’t exactly healthy. What can I do for you today, Bernie? You can’t find anything better to do on a Saturday afternoon than hang out in a police station?”

  “I want to know if the autopsy results came in yet.”

  “Bernie, why? Gabby is gone and you need to let it go.”

  “Not until I know what happened to her! I need to know how she died.” She crossed her arms, prepared to wait him out.

  He sighed and reached for a manila folder. “Fine. I’m not going to share any specific details with you, but yes, the autopsy results came in and this is officially a homicide investigation. Gabby was murdered, stabbed multiple times. I’m sorry, Bernie.”

  She turned her head to avoid his penetrating stare, biting her lip to keep from crying. Detective Garcia said nothing but reached behind his desk for a box of tissues, which he handed to her. She took one and stood, pretending to examine the certificates on the wall while she wiped her nose and attempted to gather her composure. She wasn’t shocked; she’d known in her heart Gabby had been killed somehow. But murder was such a shocking word, and stabbing seemed so brutal; Gabby’s final moments must have been terrifying beyond belief. “So,” she said as she wiped a final time and threw the tissue in the trash. “Who do you think killed her? And why?”

  He smiled gently. “I can’t discuss the details of the case with you, Bernie. I know you were really good friends, but you’re not family. I’m sorry.”

  She was disappointed but not surprised. He’d never been very forthcoming with her about Gabby’s case. “Isn’t there anything you can tell me?”

  “I can tell you I’m giving top priority to this case.” He waited until she resumed her seat. “What about you? Where are you staying? I stopped by your house the other day, and it’s clear you haven’t been there in a while.”

  Great. I definitely don’t want the police butting in and getting me sent to foster care for the next three months. If I can just hang on until April! “I’m staying with a friend for a while. My mom’s going through some stuff right now, and I thought it best if I cleared out for a few weeks.”

  “Your mother’s a drug addict and an alcoholic. Your father’s in prison on an assault charge, and you haven’t lived in that run-down trailer since Gabby disappeared. Where are you staying?” He crossed his arms and stared her down. “You can either tell me or I can find out in a much more official manner.”

  “Fine. Calm down. I’m staying with a friend. They have a really nice house, and they’re letting me stay there until I turn eighteen and can get an apartment. I’m fine. Really.”

  “What’s this friend’s name?”

  She sighed as she realized he wasn’t about to let it go. “Josh.”

  He looked at her sharply. “You’re living with your boyfriend? You’re too young for that.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend! I swear!” She panicked, fearing he would pack her off to foster care then and there. “He’s a friend from school. Please.” She leaned forward and placed her hands on his desk. “That’s all he is. We’re just friends.”

  “Last name?” The detective turned to his computer.

  “Harris.”

  Detective Garcia began clicking away on his keyboard. “Joshua Dane Harris. Mother’s name Claire Harris. Father and younger brother deceased October of last year.” He grimaced. “Shit, that’s rough,” he whispered, then cleared his throat. “Looks like he’s an honor student. Are you safe there, Bernie?”

  A heck of a lot safer than I was sleeping in my car. “Yeah. Josh and his mom are good people.”

  “He doesn’t expect sexual favors in return?”

  “No, of course not! Josh isn’t like that!” She jumped to her feet and shouldered her bag. “I’ve got to go.” She so needed to get out of there before he butted in any further and she found herself navigating the New Mexico foster care system.

  She stopped by the Rodriguez trailer on the way home to check on Gabby’s dad. He’d taken the news of his daughter’s death hard, and Bernie was worried about him. She picked up a burger and fries on her way, fairly certain he wasn’t eating regularly and probably didn’t have any decent food on hand.

  He answered the door and Bernie’s fears were confirmed. He was unshaven, his shirt dirty and untucked, and his eyes were bruised and tired-looking. “Oh, hey, Bernie. Come in.” He pushed the screen door open and left her to follow or not. It was such a heartbreaking difference from the last time she’d visited with Josh when Mr. Rodriguez had been so positive, certain Gabby would be home soon.

  She followed him to the tiny kitchen, where he poured himself a cup of foul-smelling coffee, not bothering to offer any to Bernie, for which she was grateful. “I brought you a burger.” She found a plate and unpacked the fast-food meal she’d brought.

  “Aw, thanks, but I’m not hungry,” he murmured.

  “You need to eat. Come sit down.” She gently took the coffee cup out of his hand and led him to the table, pulling out the chair for him.

  He shrugged and sat. He stared at the food for a few moments before raising the burger to his mouth. He ate mechanically, probably not tasting the food, but he finished, washing it down with the coffee. “Somebody killed my baby.” He spoke the words suddenly, taking Bernie by surprise.

  “I know. I’m so sorry. The police are going to figure out who did it.” She wasn’t sure she believed it, but she felt the need to offer some sort of comfort.

  He didn’t seem to hear her. “They stabbed her. They stabbed my little girl to death. So many times.” Tears streaked down his face.

  “You need to sleep, Mr. Rodriguez. Why don’t you go lie down on the couch while I clean up in here?”

  He didn’t answer, but he followed her suggestion and rose from the table, disappearing into the living room. Bernie finished cleaning up the kitchen and went to find him. He was sound asleep on the couch, so she covered him with an afghan and left, locking the door behind her.

  She was eager to get home—get to Josh’s home—and bask in the warmth and goodness that surrounde
d him and Claire, but the house was empty, except for Freddie, who wagged his tail ecstatically when she let herself in. She checked her messages and saw she’d missed one from Josh saying he was hanging out with Tony after work.

  “Looks like it’s just me and you, Freddie. I’m starving. What do you want for dinner?” She opened the fridge and stared into the cavernous depths, waiting for inspiration. Freddie, of course, nosed his way in, prepared to help her choose. She poked around, opening several containers, but eventually closed it and poured herself a bowl of cereal. She poured one for Freddie as well, cementing her in his doggy heart as the best human ever. When they had both finished, she settled on the sofa to watch a few episodes of Buffy, Freddie cuddled against her. She fell asleep before the second episode ended.

  That’s how Josh found her when he returned later in the evening. He covered her with the blanket lying across the back of the couch and went to take a shower.

  Chapter Eleven

  Josh

  The doorbell rang while Josh was dicing vegetables for soup. The afternoon had turned overcast and bitterly cold; soup was definitely on the menu. He shoved a barking Freddie out of the way and opened the door to find a middle-aged man on the doorstep.

  “Good afternoon. Are you Joshua Harris?” The man reached into his sport coat and pulled out a badge. “I’m Detective Garcia, Albuquerque Police. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Um, yeah. Sure. Come in.” Josh stood aside and gestured for the detective to enter, wondering what on earth this could be about. “My mom’s not home yet…” He let his statement linger suggestively.

  The detective smiled slightly while staring steadily at Josh, clearly taking his measure. “No problem. You’re eighteen and don’t need parental consent to talk to me. Do you?”

  “Of course not. Have a seat.” He led him into the living room. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No thanks. This won’t take long.” He sat and waited for Josh to sit across from him.

  Josh sat and tried not to fidget as he waited for the detective to speak. He didn’t know why he felt guilty, but this guy was making him squirm. Finally he could stand it no longer. “So, you said you had a few questions? About what?”

  “Well, Josh—can I call you Josh?” He barely waited for Josh to nod. “I wanted to ask you about Bernice Abeyta.”

  “Bernie? What about her? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. She’s at work. I’m just wondering how she ended up staying here. This is a nice house. A lot nicer than what she’s used to.”

  Josh narrowed his eyes and frowned. What the hell was this guy implying? “Yeah? So what?”

  “Nothing. Merely an observation. So, how did you meet Miss Abeyta?” The cool smile was back.

  “We met at school. We got paired up for a project in economics.”

  “And she’s your girlfriend?”

  “No! We’re friends. That’s all.”

  “And do you regularly invite your ‘friends’ to move in with you? Does she have her own bedroom?”

  “Yes, of course she does! Why would you—?”

  “Are you sleeping with her?” the detective interrupted.

  “No!” Josh stood, furious, wondering why on earth he was being questioned like this and how in the hell it was any of this guy’s business.

  “Sit down, Mr. Harris.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s going on here! Why am I being questioned like this?”

  The detective didn’t answer. He simply stared until Josh felt foolish and decided to sit down again.

  “Listen, I’m sorry. I just don’t understand what’s going on.” Josh leaned his forearms on his thighs and ran his hands through his hair.

  “Mr. Harris, you have a young woman, a minor, living in your home without parental consent. I’m simply checking up on her.”

  “Parental consent? What a joke! Have you met her mother? Bernie was almost raped by her mom’s boyfriend!”

  “So you figured she could just move in here?”

  “Better here than living in her car.” He noticed the detective’s surprised look. “You didn’t know she was sleeping in her car, huh? Yeah, for nearly four months. Look, I just wanted to help her. She’s a really great person and deserves more than a crappy trailer and her psycho mom.” He tried not to shout.

  “All right. Let’s dial it down, Josh. I can see you and I are on the same page—we both have Bernie’s best interests at heart. I’m here to make sure she’s safe. I know she doesn’t want to go into foster care for the few months she has left before she turns eighteen, but I need to know she’s safe here.” The detective had now adopted a placating tone.

  “She is. I swear I’ll keep her safe.”

  Garcia smiled again, without humor. “Good. You wouldn’t mind showing me where she sleeps, would you?”

  Josh gritted his teeth but rose without a word, gesturing for the detective to follow him upstairs. He felt like he was intruding or snooping as he opened the door to Bernie’s bedroom; he allowed the detective to enter and look around while he stayed in the hallway. “Satisfied?” he asked when the man returned.

  “It’s a very nice room. Was it the guest room before Miss Abeyta moved in?” At Josh’s nod he pointed to the room next door. “Is that your room?”

  Josh shook his head. “That’s my brother’s room. Mine’s across the hall.”

  “Your brother died just over a year ago, correct?”

  Josh said nothing but nodded brusquely. This guy had obviously run a report on his family.

  “I’m sorry. That’s rough.”

  “Josh? Honey, where are you? Whose car is outside?” Claire appeared at the top of the stairs. “Oh. I didn’t realize…excuse me, but who the hell are you?” She swiftly moved to stand between her son and the strange man.

  Josh couldn’t help his amusement at her overprotective stance; he could practically see her feathers ruffling. “Mom, this is—”

  “My name is Mike Garcia,” he interrupted, holding his hand out. “I’m a detective with the Albuquerque Police Department.”

  Claire ignored his hand. “I’d like to see some identification. Now.”

  Garcia hurriedly reached for his badge, fumbling in his haste, which made Josh snicker. His mom could be scary when someone was messing with her baby.

  Claire closely examined the badge before handing it back. “So, Detective Garcia, how can we help you?”

  “I stopped by to check on Bernie’s living arrangements. I wanted—”

  “And you thought it was appropriate to question my son alone?”

  “Your son is eighteen and considered a legal adult.” Garcia was clearly on the defensive.

  “And what exactly is your interest in Bernie? Is she in trouble?” Claire was not backing down and seemed to be in full-on momma bear mode.

  “No, ma’am. I’m simply concerned for Miss Abeyta’s wellbeing. I’m the lead detective on the Gabby Rodriguez case, and Bernie has been checking in with me for months. I stopped by her house the other day and realized she hasn’t been living there for a while. She’s still a minor, and I need to know she’s okay.”

  The two adults stared at each other for several moments while Josh watched. Neither was backing down, but Josh thought he could see admiration in the detective’s eyes.

  “And are you satisfied now that you’ve seen her bedroom and interrogated my son?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Fine. I’m glad to see someone is finally looking into Bernie’s situation. She’s a wonderful girl and she’s been dealt a shitty hand. Now, let’s go down to the kitchen and have a cup of coffee. I have a few questions I’d like to ask.” She turned and marched down the stairs, leaving Garcia little choice but to follow meekly. Josh closed Bernie’s bedroom door and followed behind.

  Claire prepared a cup of coffee for Detective Garcia in the Keurig and set it in front of him with a look that dared him not to drink it. He drank.

  �
��Thanks. This is a lot better than what we get at the station.” He sipped the hot coffee again.

  Josh had resumed his chopping but angled himself so he could observe the interaction between the two. He watched as his mother tried to stay grumpy, but after a few minutes, she sighed and turned to the counter to retrieve several cookies from the Tupperware canister. She arranged them on a plate and set it in front of the detective without a word. He glanced at her, surprised, and took one.

  “This is delicious. Thanks,” he said, mouth full. Josh noticed the way the detective looked at his mother and frowned. There was definite admiration and something more in the glance. Josh looked at her, and for a second saw her the way the other man must—as a beautiful, desirable woman. Crap. He wasn’t sure he was ready for anything like that.

  “Josh made them,” she said with a disdainful sniff. “Are you going to take Bernie away?”

  He choked a bit and took a sip of coffee before answering. “You overestimate the amount of control I have over her. No, I’m not going to attempt to remove Bernie from your home. I doubt she’d cooperate anyway.”

  Josh couldn’t hold in a single chuckle as he dumped onion and garlic into the sizzling oil. He saw his mom glance quickly at him and roll her eyes.

  “Yes, that’s Bernie. It’s why I insisted she stay with us. I worried she’d run away if I called social services. I figured it was better than her being on the streets.”

  “I agree.” Garcia finished his coffee and stood, brushing crumbs from his hands. “Well, thanks for the coffee and cookies, ma’am. I want to get out of here before Bernie gets back from work. I’d, uh, appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention I was here.”

  ***

  “Well, big brother, you’ve really gotten yourself into a mess this time, huh?”

  “Caleb? What are you doing here?” Josh ran across the vibrant green grass and threw his arms around his little brother. “Oh my God! I thought you were—”

  “Dead? Yeah, I still am. Sorry, Josh.”

  Josh dropped his arms and stepped back, looking down into his brother’s face. Caleb hadn’t aged a bit since Josh had last seen him and was wearing the same shirt he’d worn when he left for his game over a year ago. “This is a dream, isn’t it? This isn’t real.”