When She Wasn't Looking by Helenkay Dimon

sound. He’d spew and judge, curse and berate.”
    Jonas’s eyes narrowed for a second before his blank stare returned. “That had to be hard to handle.”
    “He judged everyone and held us to a high standard.”
    “Maybe an unreasonable one?”
    Being the only one sharing made her want to squirm right out of her chair. As it was, she had to sit on her hands to keep from fidgeting. “What was your dad like?”
    “Tough but fair.” Jonas launched right into a description, this time not evading the personal question. “A lifetime navy man. Mom died of breast cancer when I was in junior high, so it was just me and Dad.”
    She heard the pride laced through the minimum of words. Jonas didn’t talk about the mutual love and respect because he didn’t have to. She could see it. At the mention of his father, Jonas’s face lit up, and the exhaustion that had been tugging at his mouth and eyes for the past hour disappeared.
    He’d known loss but it didn’t define him. Not like it did with her.
    The kick of envy stole her breath. And his honest explanation kept her talking. “Mine came to my volleyball games and would shout and swear at the coaches from the stands.”
    Jonas nodded. “He was that guy.”
    “Totally.”
    “Abusive?”
    Courtney turned the label over in her mind. It didn’t fit. Nothing about her family, the situation, fell neatly into any category. “I never thought of him that way, but by most standards he’d be considered a jerk. He never hit but his words could knock you back.”
    How many times had she wondered if her parents would have made it had they lived? Too many to count. Not that the answer really mattered or solved the questions surrounding their murders, but for some reason the idea of their eventual divorce plagued her.
    “That day I’d been grounded for a bad grade—a B, by the way—and ordered to come straight home. Furious and dramatic, in pure teen mode, I disobeyed. I didn’t go home after school or call. I stayed with my boyfriend until past dark then went home, ready for a showdown.”
    She’d replayed that last week in her mind so many times. Her father spent almost every hour at home, locked in his office while he pored over paperwork. The man normally worked twelve-hour days at the office, going in before six so he would be home for the mandatory weekday family dinner, but that week he broke with his normal schedule.
    “Courtney?” Jonas slipped a hand across the desk toward her. “We don’t have to do this now.”
    She closed her eyes, grateful for his ticket out. The temptation proved great, but she forced her eyes open again. “I have to do it sometime. You need the information, right?”
    “So I can help you, yes.”
    He was a man who wore every rough moment on his face. Handsome but not in a pretty way. Real, with scars and stubble and strength etched in every line. But when he looked at her just now the sharp angles of his face smoothed.
    “The police officer met me in the driveway.” Even with her eyes open and her life safe in a secure building, the flashing police lights twirled red and blue in her head. “My dad’s business partner was there. Neighbors stood on the sidewalk, huddled together and whispering as I walked by.”
    “That’s what neighbors do.”
    “No one approached me except the cop. He put his arm around my shoulders and told me everything would be fine. I had no idea who he was and I tried to listen, but the radio on his shoulder kept chirping.” She tugged on the bottom of her ear. “Four dead. The refrain repeated until I couldn’t hear anything else.”
    The night came back to her in a rush. The choking smell of exhaust from the fire truck by the curb. The police officers stretching yellow tape across her lawn. The front door standing open as people with blue windbreakers and small cases walked in and out.
    “I remember thinking my dad would be pissed if he saw all of these people walking through the flower beds and going