They stand together awkwardly on the porch. Rather, Alan feels awkward; Jim looks like he’s done this sort of thing before.
He has, Alan reminds himself, clasping his hands in front of him and rocking back on his heels. At my house, all those times he brought Brooks home.
He wants to say again that he doesn’t think Brooks is inside, but before he can open his mouth, he hears footsteps on the other side of the door. Jim rang the doorbell—they heard it echo away into the depths of the house—and now waits with his badge in one hand. He gives Alan a terse grin, then turns as the door opens.
The woman before them looks like a grown-up version of Kylie, so Alan knows they’re at the right place. With a slight frown marring her pretty features, she glances from Jim to Alan and back again, her b
