CHAPTER 77 - Rita

CHAPTER 77RitaTHE EVENING COMES IN DARK, QUIET LIKE THE SNOW ON THE TREES outside my office window. There’s still paperwork to clear up on the Bradley case, but the heavy lifting is done for now, and everyone in the department is working silently, heads down, computer keys clicking.I take a deep breath. Check my phone. My brother Danny’s left me a message. I haven’t talked to him since I got caught up in the Bradley case, and we usually talk once a week at least. Of all my family, he and I are the closest. I make a mental note to give him a call. Maybe I’ll drop by his place on my way home.Joe raps on my open door. “I’m going to head out,” he says.“Thanks for your help, Joe. It’s been great having you here every day.”He nods and walks over to where I stand near the window. “Newburyport isn’t that far, Rita.” He brushes my hair back over my shoulder. “Why don’t you come up some weekend.”I take a deep breath. I’d really like that, but then what? “Cold place in the winter.”“Sea air will do you good. There’s a really nice pub in town, historic. Great wine list.” Joe and I’d made plans to get together after that first case, but something always came up until the plans faded away and we got lost in our separate lives.I smile. “I’ve been to Newburyport once. A long time ago. A friend and I stopped there on the way to Maine.”“Well, you haven’t been there with me.”“Okay, maybe.”“I’ll take maybe.” He draws me into a hug, and I can’t help but relax against him. This case has taken more out of me than I’d like to admit. “Let’s not let six years go by, Rita. Life’s short, as the cliché goes.”“That’s the truth.”He lets me go and heads out the door.I turn on the little radio I keep on the windowsill. The young cops think it’s quaint and hilarious that anyone would still listen to the radio, and on a radio no less. True, there aren’t many good stations left, but I like my classic rock station. I sing quietly along with the Doors’ “L.A. Woman,” a song that always makes me feel blue. I stand at the window and watch Joe throw his backpack in the passenger’s side of his truck. I stay put until his taillights fade into the night.