Page 67 of Three Steps Behind

“On the bookshelf.” Nick pointed to the case around the corner from where she stood. Seeing the frog always brought her joy, except today.

She shook out her hands. Focus. “Taylor was smart, savvy, sassy, and a ton of fun, while still being right at your side during the difficult times. I hope you all have a friend so close. I will miss Taylor until the day I meet her in heaven.”

Everyone clapped, and she made her move. She lifted her mug off the mantel a little too close to the urn—and it toppled.

She heard Nick gasp as she caught it.

“Good catch,” he said, quickly crossing the room.

“I don’t think anything came out.” She discreetly opened it before he made it to her side.

Just as she’d suspected—empty.

Did she make a big deal of it now, or wait and see what they learned about the coin? Wait until they had more evidence on Nick—on his movements and the possibility of his guilt. If she played all her cards now, it would only alert him to cover his tracks, and that was the last thing she wanted. Besides, maybe it was all a misunderstanding. Perhaps she was wrong—but she certainly didn’t believe so.

Someone had taken her friend’s life. Her gut was adamant. Her spirit even more convinced.

“Here.” She handed the urn back to Nick, lid in place.

He clutched it like a football tucked to his chest and returned it to the mantel.

“Please be more careful next time. She’s my wife.”

“So sorry for my klutziness.”

Nick nodded, clearly not thrilled, but once he settled the urn just how he liked it, he returned to his seat.

“Next up?” he asked as Harper sat next to Deckard, who’d settled in an oversized chair big enough for two people if they squished.

He reached over and took her trembling hand. “We’ll get him,” he whispered against her ear, his warm breath tickling the loose strands of hair against her neck. “If it was him, we’ll get him. I promise.”

She nodded, already trusting his confidence in their ability to get Nick. When Deck made a promise, he stuck to it like a bareback rider to a horse’s mane.

Susan stood next, and she’d barely gotten into her story when Harper’s eyes brimmed with hot tears.

“It’s going to be okay,” Deck whispered again. “It’ll take time, but you’ll be okay. I know it.” He took hold of her hand again. She glanced about the room, thankful they had a nearly secluded spot. She was half on his lap, but it was the only seating for some level of private conversation.

She was glad he knew she’d be okay, because normal was the last thing she felt. She was stuck in the middle of a muck pit, praying God would set her on a solid rock again—but how could He, when she doubted His goodness? But how could she doubt His goodness after all He’d brought her through? Guilt raked through her, overwhelming sadness saturating her. It was too painful to think on, so she yet again shoved it down.

Her gaze dropped to their interlocked fingers. Deck was comforting her, that was all—comfort for a friend.

She left her hand in Deck’s—but only to get through today. She was getting far too used to him holding her than she should have allowed. Clingy wasn’t her, and that’s how she felt—like a well-meaning, friendship-based pity case. And it irked and embarrassed her to no end.

Carefully, she extricated her fingers from his and rested both her hands on her lap, her own fingers intertwined.

She needed to get back to her brave, courageous self. If only God would help. But she couldn’t get past what He had allowed, so maybe it was best if she didn’t talk to Him at all. The thought lodged in her throat.

I am your God. Remember me.

Tears sprang unbidden in her eyes.

Deck studied her out of the corner of his eye, confusion etched on his brow at her pulling her hand away, but it was for the best. She could not become dependent on another—especially when he was only being a friend. That level of comfort would cease one day, and then where would she be?

Susan wrapped up, followed by the next handful of speakers. By the time they finished, Harper was a borderline blubbering mess.

Deck leaned over. “You about ready to go?”

She nodded and stood. “Just one little thing.”