“I will. Have a good night, Doug.”
“You, too, punkin pie.”
My throat tightened at the nickname Grandpa had given me when I was five. He’d called me that until the day he died, and it had stuck with some of his friends.
I grabbed my purse and my duffel bag. For the time being, I planned to stay in the small apartment at the back of the clinic where Grandpa had lived until I looked over the house he’d bought. I had been numb when I read the will, and few of the details had stuck.
As I opened the door, Officer Murphy’s phone rang. The moon was only a sliver in the sky and didn’t offer enough light to illuminate the man’s features.
“Hey, Doug.” Given the dark, husky voice and broad shoulders, I could have only imagined how handsome he was. “Yes. I will. Thanks.”
Nothing else was said. My eyes began to adjust to the darkness, but I could only make out an outline of the man. “I’m Sydney Burch.”
“Yes, ma’am. Doug told me. Sorry I scared you. I was keeping an eye on the place since you were still supposed to be out of town.”
Something about his voice intrigued me. I squinted harder, trying to align the features of the man with the voice. Checking out Officer Murphy in the light of day had officially jumped to the top of my to-do list.
“Sydney?”
Oh shit.
I’d spaced out for a second while thinking about him. “Umm… thank you for keeping an eye on the place. I came home early.”
“You’re welcome. Let me walk you to your door,” he said.
The presence and size of Officer Murphy further frazzled my thoughts. I tightened my hand on my bag to focus on something other than Officer Murphy.
Exhaustion. It had to be exhaustion. I decided I was going to blame my thoughts on being worn out from the drama of the last two weeks.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.” My response came out quiet. A bit stronger, I said, “Yes. I’m tired. It’s been a long trip.”
After the first step, the next became easier. Officer Murphy’s flashlight was pointed at the ground, illuminating our path. I wondered if it would be weird to glance his way.
Yes. Yes, it would. Get inside the house and go to bed.
When we were nearly at the door, I took out my keys. “Thanks again, Officer Murphy. Have a good night.”
“You, too, Syd.”
Syd.
No one had ever called me anything but Sydney or punkin pie.
I opened the door and flipped on the light. When I turned around, all I saw was his retreating back and dark hair. I waited at the door longer than I should have to see if he turned around.
He didn’t.