CHAPTER 15

November. Present Day.

Parker never fell asleep that night.

For hours he lay awake, staring into the darkness, listening to the trees rustle outside the window as the numbers on his phone’s cold screen changed one after another.

His thoughts kept circling back to the same things.

Their conversation in the car, those damn keys, the brief pause after his words, and Aaron’s voice suddenly becoming too even.

Rick rolled onto his other side and rubbed a hand over his face in frustration.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd made a mistake somewhere. Said the wrong thing—or worse, failed to say something he should have. But the worst part was that he didn't even understand where that feeling had come from.

When the clock reached seven in the morning, he finally gave up.

There was no point trying to sleep anymore.

He got out of bed, got ready quickly, and left earlier than usual just so he wouldn't have to spend another hour at home.

Technically, they had agreed to meet directly at Stanley's house. But before that, he decided to stop by the station anyway.

To check whether the cigarette-butt results had come in. To grab coffee together. To —

He grimaced and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

Who exactly was he trying to fool?

On the way, Rick stopped at a coffee shop. The same one he'd grown fond of since moving back. It always smelled of fresh pastries and roasted coffee beans, and the baristas already recognized him.

He ordered two coffees.

A regular one for himself. A stronger one for Aaron.

And only when the girl behind the counter handed him the order did Rick suddenly realize he'd done it completely automatically. As if today were no different from yesterday. As if they were still driving to Stanley's together and everything would be exactly the same as before.

Rick frowned.

Before?

Before what, exactly?

Before last night?

He pressed his lips together irritably.

The worst thing was that he didn't have an answer. Only this stupid certainty that something had changed, and the more he replayed that conversation in his head, the angrier he became with himself.

Nothing had even happened, after all.

So why had he spent the entire night awake, and why was he now racing across town forty minutes early just to bring Lake that damn coffee?

He clicked his tongue quietly, paid, grabbed an apple pastry for Hong, and stepped outside.

The morning air was unexpectedly cold, and Rick instinctively shivered.

Holding the hot cups between his fingers, he walked into the station.

"Good morning, Richard," a familiar voice called out.

"Morning, Maria."

The woman looked up from her paperwork and studied him closely.

"You're early today."

"Couldn't sleep."

She watched him as though she wanted to ask something else, but at that moment the front door opened again.

"Good morning, Maria. Good morning, Mr. Parker."

Billy entered the station almost silently, holding a tall yellow flower. It was so bright that against the backdrop of this strange morning, it seemed almost out of place.

"I passed a flower shop and saw it," Hong explained, looking slightly embarrassed. "I thought you might like it."

Maria laughed softly.

"William, you're so thoughtful."

She carefully accepted the flower from him.

Rick found himself watching as she placed it into a vase. The yellow petals swayed gently, catching the light from the window.

Strange.

He'd been in a hurry. Rushing the whole way. Making sure the coffee wouldn't get cold. Checking the time several times. And now he was standing in the middle of the station staring at a stupid flower. As if something were holding him in place.

He looked away irritably.

"Alright, I — "

"You're looking for Detective Lake?" Maria guessed.

"Yeah," the answer came out too quickly.

She adjusted the stem inside the vase.

"He's not here."

Rick frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"He left."

"Left?" Something unpleasant dropped in his stomach. "Where?"

"He really did leave," Hong chimed in from somewhere beside him. There was a neatly folded piece of paper in his hand. "He left this."

Rick turned around. Billy was already holding out the note.

Parker automatically set one of the coffee cups on the nearest desk and took the paper. It crackled softly in his fingers as he unfolded it.

"Left. I'll be back Friday.
P.S. Don't go sticking your noses where they don't belong without me."

For several seconds he simply stared at the neat lines, unable to process what he was reading.

Aaron's handwriting was unmistakable — steady, precise, irritatingly neat, as if even a hastily written note had to look perfect.

Rick read it again. And again.
Left.
I'll be back Friday.

Today was... Monday.

Without realizing it, he tightened his grip on the paper. Half an hour ago everything had seemed simple and clear. An ordinary morning. An ordinary workday. But now that plan had fallen apart right in front of him, leaving behind a strange emptiness that made him uneasy.

People continued talking around him. The front door slammed. Somewhere deeper in the station, a phone started ringing. But all those sounds reached him as though through layers of cotton.

"You missed each other by barely half an hour," Maria said gently. "I was still here when he left."

Half an hour.

Rick's gaze drifted automatically to the coffee cup he'd left on the desk. It probably hadn't even cooled yet.

"Where did he go?" Hong's voice came from somewhere nearby.

"To the annual conference for public officials. In Miami," Maria answered, admiring the flower in the vase. "Sheriff Hayes usually attended, but this year Detective Lake had to go instead."

Rick was only half listening.

Miami.

That was the other side of the country.

The words refused to settle into anything real.

"But why so long?" Billy couldn't help asking. "Isn't it only three days?"

"You still have to get there," Maria explained calmly. "A day there, a day back, and three days for the
conference itself."

Rick counted automatically.

Monday.
Tuesday.
Wednesday.
Thursday.
Friday.

"Maaan," Hong groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. "I want to go to that conference too! There'd be so much interesting stuff there! Lectures, briefings, tons of well-known people... a dream."

Maria only smiled and shook her head.

Rick looked at the note once more, then carefully folded it in half and slowly slipped it into his inner pocket. Without realizing it, he found himself walking toward Lake's office and pulling on the handle. The door opened.

It was dark inside.

He flicked on the light, and a warm yellow glow slowly spread through the room, pushing the shadows back into the corners.

For a moment, he simply stood in the doorway.

The air still held the faint scent of green tea and that subtle citrus freshness he somehow always associated with calm. Files sat in neat stacks on the desk, a mug beside them. Everything looked completely ordinary.

As if Aaron had only stepped out for a few minutes and would be back any second.

Rick walked inside slowly.

His gaze settled on the empty chair behind the desk. He approached it and absentmindedly ran his fingers along the backrest.

Cold.

Of course it was.

What else had he expected?

He let out a quiet breath and lowered his eyes. Neatly stacked files lay on the desk beside several short notes. An ordinary office, except its owner was somehow absent. And then he caught himself thinking something completely ridiculous.

Aaron could have simply said something before leaving. One word. One sentence.

Hell, he could have left that damn note for him personally instead of Billy.

Rick felt his jaw tighten.

The longer he thought about it, the more something unpleasant twisted inside him.

The conference was work. He understood that perfectly well. He understood that Aaron didn't owe him any explanations. So why did his stomach knot every time those neat lines resurfaced in his head?

"Left. I'll be back Friday."

As if it weren't about a few days at all, but something much bigger.

Rick rubbed the bridge of his nose irritably and pulled his phone from his pocket. His contacts opened automatically, and his finger stopped over the name.

Aaron L.

One call. One question.

Why didn't you tell me?

He stared at the screen for several long seconds before letting out a humorless chuckle.

And then what? What exactly was he expecting to hear?

That Aaron had forgotten?

Hadn't had time?

Didn't think it mattered?

Or worse — That he'd considered it completely unimportant?

That last thought scraped unpleasantly beneath his ribs. Rick locked the screen sharply and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

The office suddenly felt cramped, and for some reason there wasn't enough air.

He clenched his jaw and headed for the door. He needed a cigarette immediately before the suffocating silence started getting on his nerves even more.

The cold air hit him in the face.

Rick pulled out a cigarette, turned it between his fingers for a few seconds, and only then flicked his lighter. The first drag burned his lungs almost painfully. He closed his eyes and slowly exhaled smoke into the overly bright morning sky.

His thoughts gradually stopped racing.

Lake was gone, but that didn't change anything.

Coop was still here. Stanley too. The lab results on the cigarette butt were supposed to come in today, which meant they couldn't just sit around waiting until Friday.

They'd found something. Something important. And he wasn't about to let go of that thread just because Aaron wouldn't be in town for a few days.

After finishing the cigarette, Rick crushed the butt against the railing and remained standing on the steps for a while longer, letting the cold air finally straighten out his thoughts. Once the smoke had fully left his lungs and the irritation had settled somewhat, he took a deep breath and headed back inside.

Nothing had changed at the station. Maria was typing something behind the desk. The yellow flower still stood in its vase by the window. Hong was focused on his monitor.

Rick stopped beside his desk.

"What are you working on today?"

Billy looked up.

"Nothing yet."

"Nothing at all?"

"Well..." Hong shrugged. "Usually Detective Lake gave me assignments."

Rick thought for a moment.

Technically, he could go alone. It would probably be easier that way. But the idea of spending the entire day alone with his own thoughts suddenly felt completely unbearable.

"Then get your things," he said. "You're coming with me."

Billy's eyes lit up instantly.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Where? On a case?"

"On a case."

Hong sat noticeably straighter in his chair, that familiar mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation appearing on his face — the same expression he always wore whenever someone trusted him with something bigger than sorting documents.

Rick couldn't help smirking. He slipped a hand into his inner jacket pocket and held out a paper bag.

"Here."

Billy blinked in surprise.

"What's this?" he asked, carefully accepting the bag and peeking inside.

"I bought an extra one," Rick explained for some reason, shrugging. The excuse sounded so unconvincing that they both immediately knew it was a lie.

Hong smiled shyly.

"Thank you, Mr. Parker."

Parker frowned.

"You're really starting to annoy me. Just call me Rick. And you're welcome," he grumbled.

The young man laughed softly.

"Thank you, Rick."

He hugged the bag a little closer to his chest as if it were some valuable gift rather than an ordinary pastry from a coffee shop.

Unexpectedly, Rick felt a little lighter. Just a little. And at that exact moment, he suddenly realized that Lake wouldn't approve. Aaron would say Billy was still too inexperienced for trips like this. That he shouldn't be dragged into whatever was happening with Coop just because it was more convenient.

Rick let out a long breath and looked away.

Maybe.

But Aaron wasn't here.

***

The weather was surprisingly sunny that day. The bright rays stung the eyes, though they did nothing to make the air warmer. The cold still bit at exposed skin, crept beneath collars, and burned the lungs with every breath.

Parker parked outside a familiar trailer.

"Where are we?" Hong asked, frowning as he looked around curiously.

"To see someone."

Rick shut off the engine and reached for the door handle. Billy immediately followed suit.

"Oh, I'm coming with you."

"No."

Hong froze.

"Why?"

"Because I'll be quick."

"But..."

"Billy."

Parker was already outside, looking at him over the roof of the car.

"Stay warm and wait for me. Five minutes."

The young man clearly wanted to argue, but in the end he only pressed his lips together in annoyance.

"Fine."

"Good."

Rick slammed the car door and headed toward the trailer.

Last time, he had almost stepped on a syringe lying near the porch. Aaron had yanked him back by the sleeve just in time and spent the next few minutes grumbling that Parker looked everywhere except where he was putting his feet. So now Rick paid much closer attention to where he stepped.

Reaching the door, he rapped his fist against the rusted metal several times. The dull thuds echoed through the trailer's thin walls, reverberated somewhere inside, and eventually faded.

"Turner!" he called. A cloud of vapor immediately dissolved into the air. "Open up. We need to talk."

Rhythmic shuffling came from the other side, as though someone were dragging their feet across the floor. Then the door creaked open.

A familiar pale face appeared in the doorway.

Sunken cheeks.

Dull eyes.

A cloudy, unfocused stare.

"Uh..." Turner froze for a second, as if trying to pull the right memory from the depths of his mind. Then he suddenly turned even paler. "Why are you back?! Get out!"

"Daniel, old friend," Rick said with a broad smile, immediately wedging his boot into the doorway before it could close. "Is that any way to greet old friends?"

"Um... we're not friends..." the man muttered uncertainly.

"No?" Rick leaned forward slightly. His voice remained soft, but his eyes carefully tracked every movement. "I think we make a pretty good team."

"Leave me alone already!" Turner snapped, yanking at the door again. "I told you everything!"

He glanced around nervously, stared at Rick again, then looked somewhere over his shoulder.

"Uh... where's the other cop? You know... the scary one?"

"Day off. I'm filling in."

Turner looked even more agitated.

"Get lost! If anyone sees you here, I'm dead!"

He tried to slam the door again, but Rick simply pressed harder with his foot.

"Not so fast. One question, and I'll leave."

"No..."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

Turner stubbornly pressed his cracked lips together.

Rick let out a heavy sigh, as though he were being forced into drastic measures, then abruptly pointed toward the car.

"See the car?"

"Uh... yeah..."

"See the guy inside?"

Turner craned his neck.
From this distance, Billy's silhouette behind the glass looked fairly indistinct, which unexpectedly worked in Rick's favor.

Meanwhile, Hong sat in the passenger seat squinting hard, clearly trying to figure out what they were talking about.

"Yeah," Turner swallowed.

Rick lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned in slightly.

"I'll tell you a secret."

"Yeah?"

"As a friend."

"...Okay?"

"He collects human teeth."

Turner froze.

"Uh... w-what?"

"He doesn't take front teeth. Says they're too common."

Turner stared at him as if he'd just heard his own death sentence.

Rick had no idea what the hell he was saying, especially with such a straight face, but it was too late to stop now.

At the back of his mind, Aaron's face surfaced at the worst possible moment.

Lake would be looking at him right now with that look.

That particular look.

The one that usually made people want either to shut up or sink into the ground.

"But he likes canines," Rick added gravely.

"You're lying."

"If you want, I can call him over," Parker offered in the same calm tone, even turning slightly toward the car. "I'm sure he'd love to have a conversation with you."

"N-no!" Turner grabbed his sleeve so quickly it was as though he was afraid he might be too late. "Ask your question!"

Rick waited another second, as if genuinely considering the offer, then finally nodded.

"Where can I find Stanley?"

"If I tell you, you'll... uh... leave me alone?"

"Yes. I promise."

Turner disappeared into the trailer so fast it looked as though someone were chasing him. Immediately there came the sound of rattling cans, muffled swearing, and frantic rummaging.
A minute later he burst back outside and shoved a crumpled scrap of paper into Rick's hand.

"Here's the address... He's working there tonight. Around nine-thirty he takes a smoke break... by the black... uh... service exit! And... and don't come back here! Ever!"

The door slammed shut so hard that the entire trailer visibly shook.

Rick unfolded the paper.

An address and the name of a bar had been scrawled across it in crooked, uneven handwriting, making him grimace involuntarily. Compared to Aaron's handwriting, this masterpiece wasn't even in the same universe.

The thought came on its own and somehow made him smile faintly.

He headed back toward the car, but the moment he opened the door, Hong immediately turned away from the window.

"How'd it go?" he asked curiously. "Mr.Parker..." He stumbled over his words, then corrected himself. "Rick...Did you find out what you wanted?"

"Yep."

Rick dropped into the driver's seat and handed him the paper. Billy unfolded it at once.

"The look on his face when he saw me..." he said thoughtfully, scanning the address. "What scared him so much?"

The corner of Parker's mouth twitched.

"No idea."

Billy looked up at him and narrowed his eyes slightly. Rick's explanation clearly hadn't convinced him for a second.

"The Pouring Apple"," he read aloud. "I've never been there."

"Good," Rick started the engine. "It's a dump."

"How bad?"

"You'll see tonight. For now, I don't know about you, but I'd like something to eat."

Billy chuckled softly and looked back down at the address.

***

They picked a roadside diner that looked completely unremarkable from the outside but surprisingly lively within. The air smelled of toasted buns, strong coffee, and fresh omelets. At nearby tables, people discussed work, laughed at jokes, and chatted over breakfast. Waitresses in colorful aprons moved briskly between customers, expertly delivering orders.

As usual, Rick ordered a chicken sandwich and coffee. After a moment's deliberation, Billy chose an enormous stack of pancakes drenched in syrup and dusted with powdered sugar.

When they settled into a booth by the window, Parker unexpectedly found that everything around him was getting on his nerves.

The coffee was too hot. The spoon clinked unpleasantly against the side of the cup.
Someone at a nearby table laughed too loudly. And the sunlight spilling golden patches across the tabletop irritated him for reasons he couldn't explain.

He frowned and took another sip.

Probably the lack of sleep.

Or the case.

Or both.

Across from him, Billy was happily making short work of his pancakes.

After watching him for a while, Rick suddenly realized he still didn't really know the kid.

Not long ago, Hong had been nothing more than the trainee constantly getting underfoot at the station. Then there had been the trip to Pinesborough. Working Katie's case together.
And now, somehow, they were sitting in a roadside diner waiting for evening so they could meet with Stanley.

The strange part wasn't that they were sitting here alone. The strange part was that Rick hadn't noticed when exactly it had started feeling normal.

Hong's phone vibrated. His dark eyes immediately dropped to the screen.

"Renata?" Rick asked casually, taking a sip of coffee.


"Yeah." Billy glanced at the screen, and the corners of his mouth twitched faintly.

Rick grunted.

"So you talked to her after all?"

"Yeah..." Hong set the phone aside. "She's having a hard time right now. I've been trying to support her. I think it's helping. So..."

"Of course it is."

Billy looked up in surprise.

"What?"

"You're a good guy, Billy."

The young man immediately looked embarrassed.

"Thanks..."

For a few seconds he absently turned his fork in his hands, then finally worked up the courage to continue.

"Renata likes comedies. There's one playing at the theater right now. I was thinking... maybe I should invite her? Just to get her mind off things for a little while."

"Of course you should."

"You think so?"

"I think if someone matters to you, sometimes it's enough just to get them out of the house."

Billy thoughtfully spun the fork between his fingers.

"Maybe..."

He fell silent for a moment, lazily eating a piece of pancake, then another. Then, completely unexpectedly, he said:

"By the way, I've seen Detective Lake smile a couple of times when he was talking to you."

Rick nearly choked on his coffee.

"What does he have to do with anything?!"

"Nothing," Billy said, raising his hands. "It's just that before this, I'd literally never seen him smile. I honestly thought he couldn't."

"Of course he can."

The answer came out too fast.

Parker immediately buried his face in his cup.

"He just doesn't do it very often."

"Mhm."

Hong kept looking at him as though he had just noticed something very interesting.

"What?" Rick asked.

"Nothing."

"Billy."

"Really, nothing."

Rick narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Billy innocently popped another bite of pancake into his mouth.

"It's just that you two kind of... understand each other."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know."

He shrugged.

"Sometimes it feels like you don't even need to talk."

Rick opened his mouth to argue, but couldn't come up with a response.

A strange observation. And somehow far too accurate.

Meanwhile, Billy absently twirled his fork between his fingers, as though he wasn't entirely sure what he meant himself. Then he looked up.

"Can I ask you something?"

Rick eyed him skeptically over the rim of his mug.

"Depends what it is."

Billy hesitated briefly, deciding whether he really wanted to go there.

"Was he always like that? You know... closed off."

Parker didn't answer right away. For several seconds he ran his thumb along the warm ceramic mug, studying the dark surface of his coffee.

The question caught him off guard.

"No," he finally said. "Not always."

Hong looked genuinely surprised.

"Seriously?"

"Mhm."

"It's just that sometimes I feel like I don't understand him at all."

This time Rick chuckled.

"That's normal."

"Normal?"

"Billy, half the station doesn't understand him."

"And the other half?"

"Are afraid to ask."

Hong laughed softly, and Rick found himself smiling in return. The smile faded quickly.

A school hallway suddenly flashed before his eyes. A basketball uniform. A noisy group of friends.
And Aaron rolling his eyes at yet another stupid thing Rick had said.

"He used to be different," Rick said more quietly.

Billy immediately leaned forward.

"How?"

"More talkative."

"I don't believe that."

"Neither would I."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Someone at a nearby table burst out laughing, and a waitress set a tray of cups down at the counter.

Billy pushed his plate aside. His appetite had suddenly disappeared.

"And then everything changed?" he asked seriously.

The smile vanished from Rick's face entirely.

He slowly exhaled and looked out the window, where sunlight reflected in the puddles.

"Yeah."

"Because of Katie?"

Rick was silent for a little longer.

"Mhm."

He turned the cup in his hands and let out a humorless chuckle.

"Sometimes something happens, and people seem to keep living their lives afterward. They work, joke around, go about their business... and then ten years pass, and you realize none of them ever became who they were before."

Billy lowered his gaze to his plate.

"Like Renata is now?"

"Maybe."

He was quiet for a few seconds, then nodded toward the phone beside Billy's plate.

"That's why, if I were you, I'd invite her to the movies."

"Really?"

"Billy, if somebody had voluntarily asked me to the movies when I was seventeen, I would've assumed it was fate."

Hong snorted.

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

Hong merely shook his head and reached for his jacket. Parker paid the bill, and the two of them headed outside.

The sunlight was still blinding. The November cold hadn't gone anywhere.

A long day awaited them somewhere ahead: the station, the cigarette-butt analysis, Stanley, and dozens of questions that still had no answers.

And that was good.

There was plenty of work to do.

The thought brought an unexpected sense of relief. Because whenever he was left alone with himself for even a few minutes, it became far too quiet inside his head.

Rick opened the driver's door and was about to get behind the wheel when he suddenly caught himself reaching automatically toward the inner pocket of his jacket.

The one holding the neatly folded note.

His fingers froze against the fabric.

Just for a moment.

Then he jerked his hand away and clenched it into a fist.

"Let's go," he said shortly.

A few seconds later they were already in the car. The engine rumbled softly, and the vehicle pulled smoothly onto the road.