“The counselor asked me if I thought she was trying to replace my mother and that’s why I was upset.”

 “But you told the counselor why you were upset, right?” Emma asked.

 “I was upset because she was wearing my mother’s clothes!” she said, her voice suddenly strong. “They’ll be worn out pretty soon and she’ll have to get new ones. I hope, but I don’t think so.”

 “Did you tell your dad it bothers you?” Emma asked.

 “My dad is...you know...he’s not the same. I can tell even if he smiles all the time and acts like we all just got tickets to the Ice Capades, it’s all fake. Inside he’s just so sad. He can’t do anything.”

 Emma’s cheeks were wet with tears. “You should tell him, though. You shouldn’t just hurt inside without anyone to talk to. Your dad wouldn’t want you to do that.”

 “I have you,” she said.

 “But—”

 “Except I don’t know your name or anything.”

 I should call Adam tonight and we should have a good dinner and maybe two bottles of wine and a long night in each other’s arms because I’m going to be looking for work very, very soon.

 “I’m Emma,” she said. “And I’ve been alone and sad, too. But I’m not right now so I can talk to you. Except I’m not allowed to use my phone during work—during the day. I’m off at five. And on weekends.”

 “This weekend is Christmas,” she said sadly. “It’s a little harder at Christmas.”

 “I know, honey.”

 “I need to go,” she said. “I’ll call you sometime.”

 “Okay. And you can leave a message if I’m working. Or in the shower or something.”

 “Or text?” Bethany asked.

 “Sure. But hey. Let’s talk. Okay? It’s what you want to do.”

 “Yeah. I think. Don’t tell them, okay?”

 “I’m not telling them.” I hope. I might have to, but let’s see.

 * * *

 “This Emma seems like an interesting character,” Logan said.

 Riley smiled. They were at the restaurant, chatting about nothing at all. “You made it all the way to the antipasto,” she said.

 “What? Did I say something wrong?”

 “Not at all. I’ve been expecting you to say something. You kind of came to life when Emma showed up.”

 “Did I? I think I came to life when she recognized me but I didn’t really remember her. Could the world get any smaller?”

 “This is a small place. And Emma is very pretty,” Riley said. “Unforgettable.”

 “She did the right thing, you know,” he added.

 “When there’s trouble of some kind, I like it if they go through me. Or Nick. Nick is brilliant with situations like that. He’s not a big guy—he’s a short, stocky Italian—but he manages to seem six foot six if he has to. To the women who work for us he’s a sweetheart until they push him too far, try to take advantage of him, then he’s great at getting serious and making his point firmly. Not meanly, but firmly. With the men, he’s one of the guys until they try to take advantage and then he’s clearly the boss. No one wants to mess with Nick. He’s got a look. A scrappy look. Often a potential client will get an estimate from Nick and then come to me, looking to sweet-talk the lady boss into a better, cheaper deal.” She laughed and shook her head. “It hasn’t worked even once.

 “I’d have liked it if Nick had been there when the police came,” she went on. “I’d have liked it if Nick and I were both there when the police confronted Mr. Andrews, but that’s asking for a miracle.”

 “I’m sure they found him,” Logan said. “He’ll turn up at work or a bar or come to the hospital to try to offer up some lame excuse for beating the shit outta his wife.”

 “What will happen to him?” she asked.

 “He’ll go to jail,” Logan said, spearing an artichoke heart with his fork.

 “His wife might think to make peace by denying—”

 “There was a witness and evidence of a beating. You think the police don’t know what she’s up against? They know what she’ll say, what she’ll do and they’ve heard it all before. By now she’s as messed up as he is. There are two lawbreakers who can’t make bail—battery domestic violators and drunk drivers. They get to spend the night. In the first case so their victim has time to get away if he or she will do so and in the second case, to sober up.”

 Riley thought about that. “That’s very clever of the police,” she finally said. “Here I thought abusers and drunks could get away with stuff all the time.”

 “They do, even with all the stops in place. But we’re awful smart. We know how they think and act.”

 “You are smart,” she agreed with a laugh.

 “So tell me about Emma,” he said.

 “Why do you want to know?” she asked.

 “Because you’re friends,” he said.

 Riley scooped some more greens from the salad on her plate, focusing on the antipasto and not him. “We’re not friends, actually. I’ve known her for a long time but she has only recently come back to Santa Rosa after being away for years. She needed a job. That’s pretty much it.”

 “Oh, no, it’s not,” he said, laughing. “You two have some kind of important relationship that goes beyond work.”