Never Happened by Debra Webb Read Free Book Online

let the sentence trail off. Alex didn’t have to say anything; he read the truth in her eyes. She and Henson hadn’t started going out again. Patton looked away as if he’d rather she’d lied to him. Partners talked about their personal lives. She wouldn’t have expected any less.
    Turning her attention back to the real problem, she asked, “He didn’t talk to you last night?” Alex found that possibility unreasonably disturbing considering she’d passed along a piece of possible evidence that Henson had obviously been excited about. Wouldn’t he tell his partner that?
    Patton scrubbed his hand over his face. “I was at the hospital until I heard about the accident. My wife went into labor a little early.”
    A new baby. She’d forgotten his wife was expecting. Well that explained his being left out of the loop last night. “Is everything okay?”
    He grinned but the effort was a little dim under the circumstances. “Yeah. A girl. Eight pounds one ounce. She’s a doll.”
    Something far too similar to longing pierced atender place deep inside Alex. She evicted the sentimental ache and gave herself a swift mental kick for even allowing the senseless emotion to rear its pointless head. She’d made her decisions about husbands and kids long ago. Hearing about other people’s kids didn’t usually bother her…the emotional roller coaster this morning was about Henson.
    She still couldn’t believe he was dead. She kept expecting to turn around and hear him tossing some silly joke at her or asking her if she had plans this weekend.
    His death had rattled her. This wasn’t really about the nonrelationship they’d shared…he was a friend, of course she’d be unsettled by his death. She didn’t allow regrets. She preferred her independence. She liked taking care of herself and not having to rely on anyone else for anything. This was just a normal reaction to losing a friend.
    Shaking off the disturbing thoughts, she rejoined the conversation and did what she’d come here to do. “I don’t know if this makes any difference,” she began, unsure exactly how to explain the situation, “but I gave Henson a piece of what may have been evidence from the Crane suicide scene.”
    Patton sat up a little straighter, his attention sharpening a bit. “What sort of evidence? Henson’sreport says the incident was cut-and-dried. No questions on his end. I haven’t seen the autopsy report yet—they’re a little backed up over at the morgue—but the M.E. didn’t mention expecting anything unusual, according to Henson’s notes.”
    She nodded. He was right on all counts. Henson hadn’t said anything different to her. “I gave him a peculiar…” God, how did she say this? “It looked like some sort of contact lens, except different.” Well that surely explained what she meant. Frustration brimmed. “Henson took it to a friend for unofficial analysis,” she offered in lieu of a better explanation. “When he called me last night he was wound up about it. He said he was going over to pick the lens up and that he’d be taking it to the state lab this morning. He sounded pretty excited.”
    Patton’s gaze narrowed with keener interest. “Do you know who he was going to see?”
    Alex shook her head. “Not a clue. Some computer whiz. Like I said, he sounded excited. I can’t see him falling asleep at the wheel when he’d sounded fully alert when we spoke.”
    Patton glanced at his watch and swore. “I have a meeting.” He stood. “Listen, if you think of anything else Henson said that might sound relevant, give mea call.” He passed Alex a business card that included his mobile as well as his home number. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything about the memorial service.”
    Alex tucked the card