Together Alone by Barbara Delinsky Read Free Book Online Page B

looking for tenants yet. I ’m not looking for tenants at all. Doug’s the one who wants to rent.”
    “Figured that,” John murmured just as the man from the back seat slipped out and straightened. “Ignore the stuff on his face. He says he doesn’t have time to shave so he’s growing a beard. That’ll change, once he gets organized. Emily Arkin, Brian Stasek. Brian’s joining the force. Detective.”
    The new detective from New York. Emily tried to remember what else Kay had said, but all she could think was that he didn’t look like a detective. He looked tired and more than a little disheveled. He also looked vaguely disreputable, thanks to the stubble on his face, a wrinkled shirt, and torn jeans. But if John trusted him enough to have hired him, Emily supposed he had to be okay. He certainly had incredible eyes.
    “Nice to meet you,” he said in a civilized enough voice.
    “Same here, but I’m afraid John should have called before he brought you over. The space I have won’t be ready for a while.”
    “Let’s take a look,” John said.
    “But if he needs something now—”
    “The other things he’s seen have been pits.”
    “Trust me. This is worse.”
    “Can I see it?” Brian asked quietly, and something about his tone brought her around. It was weary. She almost imagined he didn’t have the strength to raise his voice more. And then there were his eyes. They were the palest of blues, with silver flecks and shards of sheer desperation.
    Relenting, she said, “I have to warn you, it needs work.”
    He ran a hand through his hair, which was dark blond and thinning on top, though not unattractively. “At this stage,” he sighed, “I’m looking for potential. Nothing else has even come close.”
    A sound came from inside the cruiser. Moaning, he ducked back inside. When he emerged this time, he held a child.
    Early forties, Emily remembered now. Dead wife. Young child.
    She caught in a breath at the sight of that child, who was young indeed, and looked nearly as disheveled as her father. Emily’s heart went out to them both, but it was the baby to whom she was drawn. She was a beautiful child, disheveled and all, with clear skin, delicate features, and tousled brown curls so like those Jill had had that Emily felt a pang of longing.
    “What’s her name?” she asked, coming closer.
    “Julia. Julia, say hello to Emily.”
    Julia chewed on her fist and stared at Emily with the same pale eyes as her father—only hers weren’t so much desperate as somber.
    Emily smiled and touched her cheek. “Such a sad little face.”
    “She’s not very happy with me.”
    “Uh-oh. What did you do?”
    “I mean, overall. She wants her mother, but her mother’s dead.”
    “I did hear that. I’m sorry. It must be hard for you, too.”
    “It wouldn’t be so bad if I could find a place to stay.” Pale pleading blues pinned her to the spot, releasing her only to focus on the garage.
    Emily sought John’s help, but his expression was one of benign complacency. Clearly, he liked Brian. Clearly, he liked the idea of Brian living over her garage.
    “It really is awful,” she warned. “I don’t know as you’d want a child there.”
    “Jill and Marilee used to play there,” John stated.
    Emily jiggled Julia’s hand. “Not at this age, and there’s difference between playing there and living there.”
    “Does it have heat?” Brian asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Plumbing?”
    “Of sorts. The outlets are all there, but there aren’t any fixtures other than in the bathroom. The people who owned the house before us were in the process of building an apartment for their son when they moved away. We haven’t added a thing.”
    “How many rooms?”
    “One big, one small.”
    “Kitchen?”
    “Along one wall of the big room. But it’s unfinished, no appliances, no cabinets. Take a look. You’ll see. It’s light years away from being habitable.”
    “Emily?” came a cry from across the street, followed