Author's Note: One note about the summary: I changed the characters in the summary on the Forever fan fiction page to reflect a pre-established relationship Jenry pairing. I forgot to do that when I first published the story. [embarrassed emoji] Sorry!
I hope that you will enjoy this chapter.
Chapter 4
Henry peered through the window of the observation room. Jo, Hanson, and Marcus, now dressed in a red polo shirt and denim jeans, took their seats, and began the preliminary questioning as Lt. Reece entered the room.
It was incredible to believe that almost a year had passed since he had first met Jo. At the time, he was a frightened lost soul who was ready to leave his life in New York behind the moment that his secret was exposed. Now, with Jo's friendship and acceptance of him, he had little desire to run, and it felt as though he was beginning to find his way through life again.
He watched Jo as she questioned Marcus. He now knew why he had heard the voice of his cellmate in Southwark Prison telling him to have faith and to start over yesterday and why his mind had returned to both Clark Walker's and Aaron Brown's deaths. Throughout their first nine months of working together, Jo was the only person who believed him when no one else, aside from Abe, would. When she had presented him with the photograph of Abigail, Abe, and himself, it was a chance to start over. All he needed was to have faith that she would continue to believe him and that she would remain his friend.
It had been difficult to have faith that things would work out after Jo had distanced herself from him. There were times in which he had feared that he had irreparably ruined their friendship because of his lies. On those occasions, he felt like surrendering to the idea that he should dissociate himself from her to protect her from further pain. Still, Jo had occasionally shown cordiality toward him, and that and Abe's support of them had given him a small degree of hope that their relationship would survive and would deepen as it had after he took Clark Walker's life. Now, he was glad that he hadn't given up on their friendship.
He glanced down at his right wrist. It felt good to be freed from the burden of keeping his immortality a secret from almost everyone but his family. For the past thirty years, he had felt bound by the deception which was necessary to protect himself from those who sought to expose him. Even though he had carefully constructed his life to avoid the grief associated with lost relationships, he occasionally had found himself longing for the freedom to be himself around others and to trust them. Jo, without knowing it, gave him that freedom over the past year, but it had taken him time—and their swim yesterday—to consciously accept it. When he woke up on the sofa in his lab this morning, he had felt liberated from the secrecy of his past.
He reached over and rubbed his wrist one final time. As he finished the motion, he studied his hands, and he was reminded of his and Jo's conversation en route to Marcus' shop and of his discussion with Abe last night. Perhaps Abe was correct with his insights into his father's current behavior. Maybe his subconscious mind was slightly prone to accept suggestions in whatever form they took.
"Henry?"
He quickly dropped his hands and inserted them into his pants pockets as he turned toward Lt. Reece. Although she tried to maintain a neutral expression, fatigue showed in her eyes.
"I have spent the last three months in meetings with my superiors and with Internal Affairs because of the actions of a couple of other detectives in the precinct, so I haven't been able to ask this: Are you and Jo okay?"
Jo's voice drifted into the room through the speaker. Henry immediately knew what his answer was. "We will be."
Lt. Reece raised her eyebrows. She wanted a definite answer, not a vague one. Telling her the whole truth wasn't possible at this time, but he should tell her what he could.
He inhaled. "I take full responsibility for the tensions between Jo and myself over the past three months. I've told her a few things about myself that has changed her view of me, and it has taken us some time to adjust to her knowledge about my life. I honestly believe that things are returning back to normal and that they will stay that way in the future."
Lt. Reece remained expressionless as she took a moment to consider his words. "I'm not sure that I even want to know what you've told her. If you've mentioned your naked sleepwalking to her, though, I hope that she won't be surprised by your next arrest for indecent exposure. That is, if you haven't invested in some pajamas by now."
Frozen by her words, he stared at the lieutenant. She had no idea how close she was to the truth. He felt a very slight urge to flee the room and the country, but it left him as rapidly as it had entered his thoughts.
She shifted her weight, signaling her desire to focus on Marcus' interview. He turned back to the window. Lt. Reece had unwittingly brought up an excellent point. There would be a recurrence of his "naked sleepwalking" incidents. Someday, he and Jo would find themselves in a situation in which he would need to die while in the field. Jo would be unable to leave out the details of his death and awakening unless one of her superiors knew the truth and was willing to cover for her if the other superiors and Internal Affairs began to ask questions.
Telling Lt. Reece about his condition would be the logical next step. She knew almost everything that happened in the precinct. She likely was already aware of the existing discrepancies in several of Jo's reports, and she also had her suspicions about his behavior. She could piece together the disparate pieces of information from Jo and Hanson, the patrol officers, and the incoming arrest records, and she would be able to determine the truth from the accounts alone—if she hadn't surmised it already. Telling Lt. Reece about his immortality would not only give her the pieces of information which he had been withholding from her but also provide Jo with the support which she needed in performing her job.
"So, Marcus." Jo's voice drew Henry's attention to the conversation in the other room. "How did you become interested in antique artwork? Did you fall in love with it during a class trip to a museum? Did a favorite relative of yours collect it? Drooled over it at estate sales?"
Henry suppressed a smile. Jo had obviously asked Abe why he had specialized in antique papers and gems in addition to the pottery, glassware, and furniture in the shop when he had dropped off the troika earlier this morning.
"I just got bitten by the bug. Doesn't everyone in this profession?"
Jo smiled and chuckled. "That's not what I've heard."
Marcus leaned forward. "Well, your sources are an exception to the rule. The only way that you can't be bitten by the bug is if you were born in the wrong century."
Henry stiffened. Did Marcus know anything about him?
Jo's relaxed appearance, on the other hand, suggested that she had deemed Marcus to be safe. She leaned forward and looked directly at their suspect. "I was just wondering. I've always been curious about why people would become antique dealers."
Henry smiled as his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. Jo's last experience in the theatre might have been in grade school, but she was still quite the actress.
"I would love to tell you more about the profession, if you like." Marcus' smile widened as he looked at Jo.
Hanson leaned across the table. "Do you want to know what I would love to know about? The paintings and the vases in your shop. They have to be worth a pretty penny. How did you get them?"
Marcus turned to Hanson. "I found them at various estate sales and auctions around New York. They were for sale at a decent price, so I bought them."
Henry stared at their suspect. Jo had told him on the way to the interrogation room that she had emailed Abe a photograph of Marcus, and Abe had denied ever seeing the man anywhere in New York. Abe's fellow antique dealers likely wouldn't have seen the man either.
Jo nodded as she reached into the folder, pulled out a picture of Rodney, and laid it on the table in front of Marcus. "Do you know this man?"
Marcus looked down at the photograph. He began to pale, and he swallowed.
As he looked back up at Jo, he appeared calmer. "Yeah. I went to see him about insuring the antiques. Dandridge recommended him to me when I was trying to find a place to set up shop earlier this month. Is he dead?"
Henry remembered the name "Dandridge". He was the client whom he and Jo had interviewed yesterday afternoon.
Jo removed the photograph from the table and inserted it back in the folder. "Where were you two days ago?"
"I went to judo class that morning, and I spent the rest of the day in the shop before going to bed that evening." He chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. "You don't think that I've had anything to do with Rodney's death, do you?"
Jo expressionlessly stared at him. He had guessed the truth.
Under Jo's gaze, Marcus uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture.
"Did you know that there was an Easter egg in your shop?"
Lt. Reece turned to Henry and raised her eyebrows. Without taking his eyes off Jo and Hanson, he replied, "This one is a golden egg created by Carl Faberge."
She turned back to the conversation in the other room. "That's one expensive egg."
Surprised by her knowledge, he looked at her. "I've never fancied you to be an appreciator of Faberge's work."
"I've read an article about him once. It was interesting."
Before he could reply, Marcus' voice piqued Henry's curiosity. "I found the egg in this box at an estate sale in Midtown last Friday. It was one of the pieces that I wanted Rodney to insure. He said that he wanted to take it to a Faberge expert to authenticate it for insurance purposes, so I agreed to let him."
Henry narrowed his eyes. He knew that Marcus was lying.
Jo shifted in her seat. "We showed it to our own Faberge expert, and he said that it was real."
Henry remembered that they had called one to the scene before they left Marcus' shop. The Faberge expert excitedly recognized the egg from a photograph of it which was dated from 1910. He needed to authenticate it, and Jo and Hanson promised him that they would deliver the egg to him once they had gained approval from their superiors.
Marcus suddenly looked curious. "Did he say how much it's worth?"
Hanson tilted his head from side to side. "It's in the eight-figure range."
Marcus pursed his lips and nodded. "I thought so." He looked up at the two detectives. "That's what Rodney said it was worth."
Henry recognized the look that Jo had on her face. He had last seen it three months ago when he had told her the truth about himself. It was the same look that she usually wore when she pieced together the clues and solved the case.
He looked back at Marcus and thought back to the other man's mention of the troika. He wished that Marcus would say something else about the egg. He leaned forward and stared intently at the scene in the next room.
"You're dying over there."
Lt. Reece's choice of words caused Henry to instantly divert his attention from the interview and stare at her in petrified confusion.
She turned to him. "Go in there and ask him whatever you're going to ask. Jo won't kill you."
While he calmed his nerves, Henry eased his way around his unofficial superior and opened the door. He stepped foot into the room and remained near the door.
He ignored Hanson's annoyed appearance and Jo's confused expression and looked at their suspect. "Did the egg come with a stand?"
"What? And who are you?" The man's genuinely confused expression erased any residual fears that Henry had about Marcus.
"Did the egg come with a stand when you had acquired it?"
A hint of moisture began forming on Marcus' forehead. "No. I didn't see any."
Henry started to step out of the room before remembering something. He turned around. "Out of curiosity, where is your judo class located?"
"Madison Street, just on the other side of Clinton."
He smiled. "Thank you." With that, Henry walked back to the interrogation room.
Lt. Reece stared at him as he returned to where he was standing earlier. "What was that about?"
"Faberge eggs always were mounted on removable egg stands. Marcus had tried to fit the egg into the troika to hide it from interested buyers yesterday. The box's interior is roughly the same size as the egg itself, so he discarded the stand to fit the egg into the box. When he removed the stand, he left a gold flake in a corner of the troika. He forgot to hide the egg when he remembered the time that Jerry's shop opened."
"How do you know that?"
"The table which I found it on had a slight layer of dust on it, but the place where the egg laid was spotless."
"Where's the stand now?"
"It's in one of the vases in the shop."
"So, we can't use the stand and the box to prove Marcus' guilt in the theft of the egg."
"I'm afraid not." Disappointed that they couldn't use that piece of evidence, Henry looked back in the window. Jo and Hanson nonverbally conferred with each other before rising from their seats and leaving the room.
Jo opened the door. Hanson stepped into the area and closed the door behind them.
Jo looked at the group. "He's our guy. He looked nervous when he saw Rodney's picture, and he seemed more concerned about the egg's value than he was about Rodney." She turned to Henry. "I forgot to ask you earlier, but do you have any idea of how the murder occurred?"
Remembering their personal conversations from and to the precinct, Henry nodded. "He used his judo skills to kill Rodney, threw Rodney into the river, and then walked to his class without anyone questioning him about his whereabouts unless they saw the water on his clothes."
Jo gave him a curious look. He looked back at her, and she nodded. She understood that he had awakened there before.
Henry turned back to Hanson and Lt. Reece and hoped that they didn't catch his and Jo's exchange. "We can also charge him for art theft."
Hanson raised one eyebrow. "How?"
"Like you've mentioned, Hanson, the paintings by Monet, Reuben, Reynolds, and Stuart are worth at least tens of thousands of dollars apiece. For a fledging antiques shop, the purchase of even a few of them, or even one of the pieces by Monet or Reuben, would bankrupt the business. Yet, the artwork and the egg must have come from somewhere. One of the museums in Midtown was robbed last Friday, but the staff hasn't reported it to the NYPD yet."
Jo smiled in amazement. "How do you know that?"
"There were no estate sales in Midtown last Friday. Abe had complained about it while reading the newspaper at breakfast that morning."
Jo rolled her eyes and shook her head. Since she had learned that Abe was his son, she had begun to notice the times in which Abe seemed to regress into a second childhood.
Lt. Reece focused on the other room's occupant. "Ask him if he remembers leaving the box in Jerry Charter's shop the other day and why he had it with him. It might give us more information about why he had forgotten about the egg."
Jo nodded and walked back into the room with Hanson.
Sensing that he was no longer needed in the room, Henry turned and walked out the door. As he headed toward the elevators, he wondered when he should tell Lt. Reece the truth. He couldn't today; she had frightened him. He would have to do it soon, though.
He walked further down the hallway. As the events of the day replayed in his mind, a sense of familiarity grew stronger with each step. He stopped, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes to remain composed.
Today was the first time in nearly sixty years—since the day that he had stopped being a doctor, really—in which he didn't feel the burden of keeping his secret from everyone while in a group situation. Today, one person in the group knew him and his thought process—and accepted both. He had almost forgotten what it had felt like.
Hearing footsteps in the distance, he continued his walk. He couldn't let anyone other than Jo catch him like this. As the steps grew closer, though, he hoped that Jo was behind him. If so, then he couldn't wait to talk to her.
"How's your headache?"
Henry turned around and saw Jo jogging up to him. He stopped to let her catch up. "It's much better now. Thank you for asking."
She quickly joined his side, and they began walking again. She leaned over and lowered her voice. "When was the last time that you saw the egg?"
Seeing the egg again brought back memories. "A long time ago."
He glanced over at her and smiled. She was smiling, and she was quite comfortable with his vague response. Later, when they had a few minutes alone, he could tell her of a Russian doctor named Henrich Morein, Carl Faberge's presentation of the egg at an Imperial dinner party in 1910, one very persistent photographer whom he had spent the evening hiding from, and a six-year-old Alexei Nikolaevich who had reassured Henry that he hadn't told anyone—not even Grigori Rasputin—about Henry's awakening in Alexander Park nine months earlier.
She raised her voice back to its normal volume. "Have you given any more thought about what had happened to us?"
"I think that the past three months had been a very difficult time for us as we both had to adjust to your knowledge about my past. Our emotions and our subconscious thoughts were so powerful that they caused us to block out everything whenever we were reminded of it. When we resolved our issues, our mental clarity returned."
She nodded. "That would explain the blackouts. What about your reaction to the man grabbing you and you rubbing your wrist?"
"His action subconsciously reminded me of that period in my life. As for his words, my mind apparently took them as a psychological suggestion instead of the insult that it was meant to be."
"So, you're a bit suggestible?"
His innate response was to feel insulted once again. One look at Jo, however, instantly and unexpectedly dispelled any offense that he held.
She smiled. "Remind me to watch your drinking the next time we go out to McSorley's. Lucas and Mike might convince you to do something that's uncharacteristic for you if they knew that." She paused for a moment. "Do me a favor. Keep an eye on my drinking as well. After what happened yesterday, I don't trust myself around those two right now."
He chuckled. A drunken state, two men who were trying to bring him "out of his shell", and his natural desire to trust others would produce the conditions for him to submit to Lucas' and Hanson's suggestions, no matter how ludicrous they were. "I'll keep that in mind."
They walked in silence for a moment. It felt just as comfortable as it always had been. No, this time, it was as though they had enjoyed each other's company for many years instead of the short time that they had known each other.
Suddenly, she stopped and stepped back. "Who was the man in the portrait?"
He glanced above her head and noticed their location. He then looked into her curious brown eyes. He searched them for a reason as to why she had selected the natural recess created by the building's architects to house the plumbing and electrical infrastructures.
As he gazed into her eyes, his mind suddenly went blank, and he felt himself drawn to her side. He submissively stepped into the space between her and the wall and rotated his head toward her as he turned around. She slid down the wall and sat down. He mirrored her actions, and he crossed his legs as he lowered himself to the floor.
His heart started racing as she held his gaze. He felt the natural urge to avert his eyes from hers, but he found himself unable and unwilling to do so. In fact, he was taking great pleasure in his activity.
The tension in his neck, however, abruptly alerted him to its presence. He blinked as he slowly and reluctantly turned his head to ease the pain. For a brief moment, he unexpectedly wished that the particular spell that he had just fallen under would never be broken.
He looked around his surroundings. She had selected their spot and positions in an attempt to afford them some privacy. Their lowered posture and their location within the hallway essentially hid them from the prying eyes and ears of her fellow colleagues while the reflections in the windows across from them would alert them to any passing officers.
Her question echoed in his head. At other times, he would long for a different time and place to talk to her about his past. This time, that yearning was non-existent.
He stared at the wall to maintain his composure and to lower his voice so that she would be the only one who would hear him. "David Henry Morgan, my grandfather."
"You're named after your grandfather?" A touch of awe in her voice mixed with her curiosity.
He looked back at her and nodded. Memories flooded back, and he forced himself to turn his attention back to the wall to keep them from overwhelming him. "He was an honest man, and one filled with integrity. His beliefs were his principles, and it showed in the way that he treated every human being with dignity and respect. For instance, he commissioned Gilbert Stuart to paint his portrait when no other family whom we were associated with would employ his services because of his life in America.
"Grandfather was loving and doting toward his grandchildren. As he believed that my education was important, he and my mother were the only two adults in my family who encouraged my interest in reading and the world."
The reflection of a couple of patrol officers caught his attention. "Occasionally, he and my old man would argue about the direction of the family business. Until his death, my grandfather would win the arguments every time."
As the officers passed, he allowed himself to return to the past. The memories were like faint ghosts in front of his eyes instead of the full visions that he usually saw seconds before each death.
"Were you two close?"
Jo's question brought him back to the present. "We were very close. Growing up, I spent as much time with him as possible, and I enjoyed every moment of our time together. The rest of the family often commented that we were quite a bit alike." He swallowed as tears began to form in his eyes. "Unfortunately, he died when I was 17."
He reached into his waistcoat's pocket and fingered his pocket watch as the memories of his grandfather's death came back. "Given my father's reprehensible actions, I initially refused to take my watch when he died. I accepted it only because I knew that it had been in Grandfather's possession before it was in Father's." That knowledge usually prompted him to search for his watch every time he lost it during a death.
"You miss him." That wasn't a question from Jo; it was an observation.
He nodded and looked down at the ground. He wished that his grandfather could be alive to see the modern era. His voice dropped to a near whisper. "I wonder what he would think of all this."
He thought about what had transpired over the course of 200 years. On the one hand, Grandfather would be enthralled with the technological and social changes that had occurred, and he would be ecstatic about the changes in Henry's life. He would likely spend a considerable amount of time learning everything about every technological advancement in existence. He would invite Jo. Lucas, Hanson, and Lt. Reece to dinner so that he could learn about their lives and their decision to enter law enforcement or, in Lucas' case, forensic medicine. Grandfather would enjoy doting on his adopted great-grandson—to the point where Henry might be forced to discourage Abe from taking advantage of his adopted ancestor—and he would be heartbroken to learn what had happened to Abigail.
Henry swallowed. On the other hand, Grandfather's response to his grandson's immortality and its implications frightened Henry. He had greatly admired the older man, and he absorbed every lesson that Grandfather had taught him, whether it was in knowledge, wisdom, or character. Violating his and his grandfather's core principle of honesty by lying in order to survive a very long life—and passing the horrible trait down to Abe—filled Henry with shame, and he knew that it would outrage his grandfather just as his father's turn to the slave trade had angered him.
"Listen." Jo's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "I obviously don't know your grandfather. If he's anything like you, though, he wouldn't condone the measures that you've taken, but he probably would try to understand where you're coming from. Besides, something tells me that there is a very small chance that you wouldn't be the only Morgan with your condition living in New York."
He nodded; she had made an excellent point. Grandfather had abhorred the slave trade, and he had worked tirelessly to end it, even on the day before his death. If he had joined Henry aboard The Empress of Africa, he would have sacrificed his life for the slaves as well, whether it resulted in immortality for him or not.
He sat for a moment in thought. He then surveyed his surroundings before he turned back to Jo. He looked at her in utter amazement. In this moment, she was balancing his need for secrecy with his desire for friendship. He wasn't sure if her actions originated from her protection of Sean or from any times that she spent being an outsider, but he was grateful for her sensitivity to his predicament.
He suddenly hated the brief intervals of time in which they had talked over the past year. They were pleasant, but they did not afford either of them the time to properly gain knowledge of each other. He wished that he could spend more time with her, such as their few meals together and their time in the pool yesterday.
He saw her face, and he felt himself drawn to her eyes again. The thoughts in his mind ceased, and he could feel himself falling back under her spell once again.
"Finally! About time!"
Henry startled and blinked. As he calmed himself, he looked toward the offending voice. He noticed Hanson's and his cell phone's reflections in a far window.
"I'm going to yoga class tonight, if you don't mind. I seriously need it... They did?... Yeah…. Sure…. Uh, huh…. That'll be great. When do you want to do it?...Yeah, sure, I'll ask them." He listened for a couple of more seconds.
Suddenly, he stopped and rolled his eyes. "Do I have to?!" His ego showed the last signs of a fight before surrendering to his wife's will. He huffed. "Okay. I will."
Henry looked over at Jo and tried not to gaze into her eyes again. He could tell that both of them sensed that their personal time had ended. Together, they rose from their seats as Hanson ended his conversation with Karen.
Hanson gratefully noticed Henry and Jo moments after they stepped back into the hallway. "There you two are. I was about to go looking for you."
Jo smiled at him. "What's up?"
Hanson smiled back at them. "We've finally finished moving into our new house this morning. Karen wants to throw a housewarming-slash-back-to-school party. Since Donnie and Matt have found a swimming pool in our backyard, she wants to make it a pool party."
Hanson's new house sounded familiar. Did he live there once?
Jo echoed Henry's confusion. "Wait a minute. Your house has a swimming pool in the backyard?"
Hanson nodded. "Not really. It was built back in the 1970s, and the builders placed a community pool a few feet away from our back door. The boys are thrilled about it."
Henry suddenly recognized the area. He and Abigail had eyed a house in that development when they had needed to move in 1976. When they had seen the swimming pool in the area, they questioned the rationale of the builders and decided against living there.
Hanson inhaled and pulled Henry from the past. "Anyways, she wants you two to come to the party." He sighed. "She also wants me to invite Abe and Lucas so she can get to know them better." He looked at Henry. "Doc, I like Abe, and I don't mind inviting your roommate." He sighed again. "It's Lucas. He can be so annoying at times…."
Henry suppressed a smile; he knew the feeling.
Hanson continued. "She wants to hold it this Saturday. Our boys will be there, but that doesn't mean we adults can't have fun too."
Henry bit his lower lip in thought. A pool party could provide him and Jo some time to speak privately with each other when the others engage in conversation. Their time together wouldn't be much, but the party would be a start.
He looked over at Jo. Her eyes shone at the prospect of a time of enjoyment. Her mouth opening and closing several times indicated that memories of her life with Sean caused her to hesitate.
His heart instantly broke for her. When they were investigating Aaron Brown's death, Hanson had mentioned that Jo had distanced herself from Karen after Sean's death and that it had hurt Karen deeply. Based on one of Jo's comments in the past, Henry was certain that Jo had isolated herself because she had felt that Hanson and Karen's marriage would bring back painful memories for her. As a result, Jo had inadvertently dissolved a close friendship in her efforts to protect herself from her grief.
She needed to go to this celebration—both for the redevelopment of the two women's friendship and for the pleasure of some recreational time—but he wanted a way to convince her that she should. Seeking a solution, he remembered his and Jo's friendship so far. With the exception of drinks at McSorley's, she had started spending less time at work and even had begun dating again—only after he had done something similar. Maybe…
He turned to Hanson. "I'll discuss it with Abe and Lucas. As for me, you have your first response. I'll be happy to attend the celebration." As he spoke, he could imagine Lucas' enthusiastic hug and Abe's gleeful countdown to the event.
He looked at Jo. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. Finally, she found her voice. "I'm coming too."
Hanson raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth in surprise. After a few seconds, he responded, "Great! I'll see you then."
As they watched Hanson walk away, Jo stared at him. "Are you sure about this?"
He could hear one area of his mind scream that this was an ill-conceived idea that would surely result in disaster. He quickly silenced the thought. He had longed for more time with Jo, and this would provide him with an excellent opportunity to spend time with her.
"I'm sure."
She considered his appearance and nodded. "It's time, right?"
He knew what she meant from her near whisper. "I'll be there with you. If your conversation with Karen becomes uncomfortable, you can always come and talk to me."
She thought for a minute. "Thanks."
She suddenly smiled at him as they continued walking to the elevator. "Well, a pool party will be fun. It's not every day that we get to do something like this."
He smiled back at her. "This will be my first one."
She looked puzzled for a moment and then recognized the significance of the social. "I'm holding you to the same agreement that you have with me. If you need to talk, just swim over to me."
"Thank you."
Just as they reached the elevators, one opened. Henry stepped into it.
Jo looked at him. "I'll see you later."
"If I don't see you again today, have a good evening, Detective."
As the elevator doors closed, he fantasized about the pool party. His smile widened as he realized that it would also present him with another opportunity to see Jo in a swimsuit. The black one-piece suit that she wore yesterday was very modest, but it certainly flattered her figure.
He quickly stopped his thoughts. He had just buried Abigail three months ago. Although Abigail had disappeared and died thirty years ago, he should observe the proper time of mourning for her. It meant that he should refrain from such thoughts.
Even if he had completed the time of mourning, he still shouldn't think about Jo in that manner. She was his friend. Such thoughts indicated a more intimate relationship than what they had at the moment. He didn't want any miscommunication to occur as a result of his thoughts.
He couldn't stop smiling as the elevator car descended down to the morgue. This weekend, he would be doing something new, and he would be spending time with a dear friend. Much to his surprise, he was looking forward to the gathering.
When the elevator stopped, his smile faded. He swallowed as he stepped out of the car. Now, he just needed to mention the party to Lucas….
Author's Note: I have always intended this multi-chapter story to be a relatively short one. The next chapter will be the last one. I hope that you have been enjoying it so far.
