Read Broken Grace for Free Online

right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Single, right?”
    “Yeah—”
    “No kids, I assume?”
    Hackett turned quickly to see why Bishop would mention kids, what he might know, but Bishop chuckled. “I know your generation is full of baby daddies,” he said, like he was channeling the street lingo, “and people don’t get married anymore.”
    He was closer than he knew.
    “So I’m just saying, I know it’s a small town and it’s the off-season, so it feels even smaller, but you need to stay focused.”
    “I only said she was cute,” he muttered. “Can we drop it?”
    “Whoa. Little sensitive, there? Lighten up, Francis.”
    “What?” Could his new partner really not remember his first name was Justin?
    “Name that movie. Come on. You must know that line,” and then he said it again, with more gruff in his voice. “ Lighten up, Francis. ”
    “No idea.”
    “The introductions in the barracks . . .” He started laughing. “ Stripes !”
    “Never saw it.”
    “Jeez, you are a baby. Okay, that’s a required movie. I’ll tell the chief you’re not ready for the next level until you’ve seen it.”
    Hackett finally broke a smile. “Okay, okay. I’ll add it to the list.”
    Bishop spit into his cup. “Good.”

    When Grace woke, a blanket covered her and her shoes had been removed. The living room was darker now, though light streamed in from the kitchen, where Lisa was cooking at the stove. Music played softly in the background. Grace pulled the towel from her forehead, sat up, and slowly made her way into the room.
    “Hey, sleepyhead. Feeling any better?”
    “Yeah. These headaches just wipe me out. I feel kind of woozy.”
    “Well, I guess that’s better than the pain, right? Hell, that’s why I drink this.” Lisa raised her wineglass. “Nothin’ wrong with a little woozy.”
    Grace sat on a barstool at the counter while Lisa stirred something in a saucepan, the fragrance of roasted tomatoes in the air. “Were you telling the truth before? To the police?”
    Lisa froze. “What do you mean?”
    “Did I tell you what happened when I came here Friday night?”
    “No,” she said, and lifted her glass for another sip. “I know this must be so strange. You probably don’t know how to feel.”
    “I feel lost.”
    “Well, I can tell you that maybe this was a good thing.” She set down the glass and continued stirring.
    “How can you say that?”
    “I don’t mean good that he’s dead. I just mean good that you broke up. At least we know he can’t hurt you anymore.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Lisa hesitated, looking at the grease-stained tiles behind the stove. “Michael had a temper. That’s why you wanted to get your stuff when he wasn’t home. You didn’t want a confrontation. I asked you to leave him so many times, Grace. It wasn’t healthy.”
    “Did he hurt me?”
    “Well, that’s a loaded question, isn’t it,” she said, her eyes avoiding Grace’s like it was too hard to say what came next. “I never saw a black eye or anything, and you never said he hit you, but I don’t know what went on behind closed doors. You just seemed afraid.” She turned and must have sensed Grace’s anxiety. “Don’t worry. The doctor said you need rest. Your memory will come back. This will all get cleared up. They’ll figure it out. He probably had lots of enemies. Now,” she said, opening the oven door below her and retrieving two sandwiches, the cheese oozing from their sides, “I made tomato soup and grilled cheese. Sound good?”
    It sounded perfect, actually. Much better than the stuff at the hospital, and despite everything, she was hungry. After dinner, she went back to the sofa and Lisa went up to work on her bedroom. Grace said she’d watch television, but she preferred silence. She scrutinized the walls: the scuffs, nail marks, the lightened rectangles of space indicating longtime locations of paintings or pictures. She studied the fireplace: the painted wood mantel, its