Gabriella didn’t want to be overbearing, but it was very obvious that James wasn’t eating. He brought lunch to work with him but after three days, she had a feeling it was the same sandwich and the same apple that had made the trip back and forth with him the previous few days. And she had no idea exactly how to handle it, or even if she should be handling it.

Because on one hand, yes, she knew what it was. And that three months was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Honestly – and so far she’d only acknowledged it deep in her mind where (hopefully) nobody could hear – she wondered if he was quite ready to come back as captain. She was thrilled about it, it meant he was doing better. And having a month to transition back into the role had been a good idea. But she wasn’t sure that month had been enough. They were just over a week into his return to the position and it wasn’t that anything had gone wrong with the branch, but she wondered if that was at the expense of him taking care of himself correctly. 

But, on the other hand, James was an adult. He’d said he was ready, he showed he was ready, and it wasn’t like they could take it back now. But he wasn’t eating any better than he had in the first weeks he’d been back, and only slightly better than he had in the month when he was on medical leave. And it was catching up to him.

Gabriella was thinking about this as she and Amelia drove over to Market Basket to look in on a case there. And Amelia could clearly tell she was distracted.

“What’s up?” she asked as she was getting the comms set up.

“Can you wait on that?” Gabriella asked as quietly as possible.

“What?”

Gabriella motioned toward the comms unit. It wasn’t transmitting video yet, but she was pretty sure it was on audio.

“Hey, Madelyn?” Amelia said.

“What’s up?”

“I’m disconnecting for a minute. Everything’s fine, we’re in the parking lot and the case hasn’t started yet. Quick personal conversation.”

“Got it.”

Amelia shut off the comms. “Alright, what is it?”

Gabriella looked at the comms unit. “It’s off, I promise,” Amelia assured her, looking more concerned than amused now. “Come on, what’s up?”

Gabriella sighed. “Do you think James is ready to be captain again?”

Amelia was quiet for a second. “Shit,” she said finally. “Good call on the comms. I can’t think of a faster way to get him to resign than for him to hear you say that.”

Gabriella swallowed down guilt, but Amelia didn’t look upset. “He’s not eating,” Gabriella said. 

“I know.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t think there’s anything out of the ordinary to do,” Amelia admitted. “He’s back. Yes, I think he’s ready to be captain and also yes, I’m worried about a lot of things. But no one can force him to eat unless it gets bad enough it affects his performance or health. Like, noticeably affect it. I’m watching out for him, no different than I did before.”

“I’m sorry,” Gabriella started, but Amelia held up her hand.

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “We’re all aware. Okay?”

“Thanks.”

Amelia turned the comms back on. “Alright, we’re back,” she said. “Let’s go see what the hell is going on this time.”

The case itself went smoothly now that the uncanny voices that had been swearing in the stockroom midafternoon had quieted down. So Gabriella was left with the task of running an energy reader throughout the store, which was fairly empty. As she did so, she grabbed a carriage and began pulling ingredients off the shelves. Cake mix, condensed milk, Cool Whip, all things the Chapmans would despise.

As they met at the front of the store, Amelia laughed at Gabriella’s cart. “Wrong case,” she said.

“They mentioned Better Than Sex cake and were so disgusted by it that it reminded me I should make one,” Gabriella said. “Not disgusted by the name, of course, but by its existence.”

“Better Than…” Amelia trailed off, shaking her head. “You know what? Go for it.”

“It’s an old recipe, I swear!”

“Sure,” Amelia said as the automatic doors opened for them. “Live your life.”

As Gabriella put her shopping bags in the car, Amelia asked, “So, is it?”

“Is it what?”

“Is it better than sex?”

Gabriella laughed. “I’ll bring you some and you can decide.”

***

When they got back to headquarters, James was in his office, working at the computer with a coffee mug beside him. There was no sign of the lunch he said he was going to eat while they were gone. Gabriella dropped her grocery bags and went to the doorway, hesitating a little. Not that she was going to discuss any of this with him right now, but she didn’t want to startle him.

It didn’t work. He looked up, jumped, and laughed. “You’re as bad as Fang,” he said. “I didn’t hear you.”

Gabriella laughed and shrugged as she came into the room. “Just saying hi. What’s up?”

“Trying to sort out some of this scheduling mess,” James said, frowning down at a notebook on the desk beside his keyboard. “They want more coverage, but we don’t have the staff or the means to get more. Usual shit. It’s no big deal, I can just fill in the gaps.”

Working, she knew that was what he meant. Working the gaps. He’d take the shifts he couldn’t fill with the others, adding hours onto his week with no additional pay. 

“I’m pretty open,” she said. “And I could use the extra hours. So put me wherever too.”

He frowned down at what she realized was a handwritten draft of the schedule, with so many cross-outs and notes that it was almost illegible, even compared to his usual messy handwriting. 

“I’m kind of limited, they don’t want us working overtime unless we absolutely have to.”

“Is that all the branches, or just us?”

He shrugged, taking a long sip of coffee. “Who knows?” he said. “I wasn’t going to ask.”

His to-do list was growing again, she noticed as she looked at the notebook. “What day are you off this week?” she asked.

“Not sure yet,” James said. “I might just-”

He caught the look on her face and stopped, then looked back at the schedule. “If I take the overnight here, it’ll be easy enough. I’ll just stay here and read for a few hours if there’s nothing.”

She’d let it go. For the moment. “I never get how you and Amelia can read the goriest horror books when you’re babysitting the printer at night.”

“Meredith said the same thing.”

That got her attention. “Oh yeah?” Gabriella asked, sitting down in one of the chairs, the one not currently filled with boxes of files. “You’re still in touch?”

James shrugged, but the tips of his ears were red. “Sometimes,” he said. “She’s got a boyfriend now.”

“A hot Australian boyfriend? Who’s cool with her talking to you?”

“She said he’s understanding.”

“How understanding are we talking? When is she home again?”

“Gabs, no,” he said. “I’m not interested. I can’t handle that right now. How could I ever-”

He cut off again as she reached out for his gloved hand. She hated the gloves, but understood why he had them. Hopefully after another month or so, he’d be less afraid. But right now, even as the June weather got hotter and more humid, he was still wearing gloves and long sleeves. And another turtleneck shirt that was probably choking him. 

But like with the food, she wasn’t going to start that conversation yet. Right now, she gripped his hand, the fabric cool under her own hand. “That’s fine,” she said. 

He nodded, looking down at the schedule under their hands. “It’s been nice talking to her,” he admitted. “We’re done, but I like her a lot.”

“I know.”

He smiled, but there was something sad behind it. “Whatever,” he said, shaking his head. “I went ten years without seeing anyone before her, and then…”

He took a shuddering breath, his hand suddenly gripping hers. “Hey,” Gabriella said, wishing she’d never brought any of it up and just smiled when he mentioned Meredith. 

James didn’t answer. “Hey,” Gabriella said again, with more force this time.

“Pencil,” he murmured under his breath. “Gabriella. Water bottle. Um…”

She watched his eyes move around the room as he named things. Right, this was their cousin Gemma’s trick for avoiding a panic attack. She waited patiently, still holding his hand. She didn’t want to get anyone else involved unless he wanted her to, but she also wasn’t going to leave him.

James looked at her and she took a deep, slow, deliberate breath, letting it out and hoping he’d line up with her. She could see how much he didn’t want this to happen, or to draw attention to it. So instead of saying anything, she put a hand on her stomach the way Graham had discreetly taught her.

James nodded and she watched him watching her, matching his breathing to hers. And finally, it worked.

“You good?” she asked softly.

He nodded. “Sorry, Gabs.”

“Do you think I’ve never had a panic attack before?” she said with a laugh that maybe wasn’t appropriate, but felt right.

Hers were usually accompanied by the scent of evergreens and cool forest air in the springtime. The anniversary had just passed with minimal fanfare and that was exactly how she wanted it. 

“You should take a break,” she offered. 

“I’m fine, I just took one.”

“Did you eat lunch yet?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you lying?”

The annoyance that flashed across his face was gone almost immediately. “I’m fine, Gabs,” he said.

They all knew it was a lie, but it wasn’t like they could fix it for him. “I’m making a new soup recipe tonight,” Gabriella said. “I’ll bring some in tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I need someone to test it,” she said. “And if I bring it to the Chapmans, I’ll get crucified. It’s one of theirs. They’re bad people, but their recipes are fucking phenomenal.”

Now he laughed. “Any updates there?” he asked.

“I talked to them this morning. They’re going out of town for a couple days, which buys me some time. Graham’s going to go through their headquarters for signs of anything weird, since that’s where this attack was.”

“What’s your plan?”

She wanted to push him to take a break again, but could almost see him clinging to the normalcy of this conversation. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out. “I will be…”

She scanned the contents of the message that had just arrived.

CASEY ROMANO

The chapmans are harassing me again because of something at their headquarters. Thought you should know

“I will apparently be talking to Casey Romano to see what the Chapmans have accused him of this time.”

“Careful,” James said. “If this guy is doing this, we should figure out some protection for you and Graham. Especially when you aren’t here.”

“My gut says he’s not,” Gabriella said, texting Casey back to see if they could meet. “But I’ll be careful.”

CASEY ROMANO

I’m at the truck all day, barely time to text you. Can I call?

She held up her phone. “I’m going to talk to him now. Are you alright?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help it,” Gabriella said with a smile. 

She was almost surprised by the smile back. Usually he’d be far more insistent that she not worry about him, that he should be worrying about her. “I know,” he relented. 

She waited to see if there was something else, but he frowned back down at the schedule. “I think I can make this work.”

“I’ll let you know what Casey says.”

“Thanks,” James murmured, already distracted.

***

“I didn’t do shit,” Casey said.

“Did they say what happened?” Gabriella asked as she walked across the slightly overgrown backyard at headquarters.

“Not to me,” Casey said. “They didn’t actually call me or anything. I found out from another wave of bullshit from their fans. My eighteen-year-old was at the hospital last night. He’s okay, it’s a chronic thing that’s had him there a few times, but I was focused on him, not the internet or bullshit like that. But when I opened my email this morning before opening the truck, there were death threats and insults and all that. Just like last time. So I go on their website and there it is. ‘Our medium rare buddy is at it again and it almost destroyed our headquarters. A jealous little guy with too much power and failed dreams.’”

“Did they give details?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Apparently their kitchen ceiling crumbled at six at night, so of course it was me and not shoddy construction work.”

“Was it you?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I just had to ask,” Gabriella said.

“No, it wasn’t me. I was coaching my other kid’s soccer game when it happened. There’s like forty people, and not just the four-year-olds on the team, who can back me up. It was at Corrigan Field, I was there probably five hours between the game and selling food in the afternoon.”

She wasn’t a police officer, she wasn’t looking for an alibi, but she did appreciate knowing that.

“The only reason I’m not going for a fucking restraining order on them right now is because I tried it already and the cops said that they couldn’t do anything,” Casey continued, his voice heated. “My kid picked up the phone this morning to some asshole saying his dad was going to die. The kid’s lungs are damaged, he has enough shit to deal with.” 

“Look, I believe you,” she said. “And whatever you have to do with the Chapmans, do it. Hopefully once I find the source of what’s going on, they’ll stop harassing you.”

“I doubt it.”

“I’m sorry this is happening.”

“It’s not your fault,” Casey said, his voice softer now. “I should’ve just kept my opinion on their shitty steak to myself. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.”

“Call me if anything else comes up, alright?”

“Yeah, I will.”

He hung up and she did the same, feeling useless. There was nothing she could do for this guy and it was her clients that were causing the harassment.

She went back in, where James seemed to be dozing off at his desk with his head resting on his hand. “James?”

He jerked awake with a sharp breath. “What?” 

She was about to ask if he was okay again, but what was he going to say? The truth? “He says it wasn’t him and I believe it.”

“Why’s that?”

“He demonstrated his ability the other day. And I know he could have been holding back, but it didn’t look like it. The man looked like he was dying. And he said he wasn’t capable of doing that kind of damage before. But also, he was coaching his kid’s soccer team when the attack happened.”

James looked thoughtful. “It could have been a way to cover his tracks. How old is the kid?”

“Four? He said it’s a team of four-year-olds. And there’s a lot of people who can back him up. Apparently he was there for hours beforehand.”

“Four?” James repeated. “And he’s in charge of all these kids?”

“I guess so.”

“There’s no way in hell someone could feasibly coach a team of four-year-olds and commit the mental resources necessary to do this much damage. So I’m not taking him entirely off the table, but I do agree that there’s something here we’re missing.”

“I can ask if he can meet again,” Gabriella said. “But I think for now, I’m going to really dig into some research on this stuff. I want more of a foundation to work from before I talk to him or the Chapmans.”

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 10