Free Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion) by DD Lorenzo Page B

devastation that could cause.
    Carter leaned back into the chair and ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. He could deal with any other person when he was on duty, but couldn’t talk sense into his brother. The frustration killed him.
    “I’m trying. I’ve talked to him, I’ve fought with him”—he gave the sergeant a laugh—“Next, I’m going to kick his ass.”
    The statement caused the old man to crack a smile. “Have you thought about bringing him up here for a while? The mountains do good to clear your head. You of all people know that.”
    Carter’s expression changed to one of sadness. “No.”
    He offered no other comment, and the trained officer detected his sorrow through the cracks of his expression. It pained him to see Carter’s grief.
    “You know, Sinclair, it’s normal to not want to go there—back to the house, I mean.”
    “I never said that.” Quick to defend himself, Carter had put up a wall.
    “You didn’t have to. Your body’s saying it for you,” the officer replied.
    Carter knew that Sergeant Henry was a good read of people. It was part of the job, and he did it well.
    “You know, I lived there without her before Declan got hurt,” he stated, matter of fact.
    Sergeant Henry wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, but you didn’t like it.”
    Carter raised his head to look at the sly old fox. He never could hide anything from him. He was just as much a pain in the ass as his brother, but he knew the truth of his relationship with Lacey.
    “Yeah…I didn’t.”
    Acknowledging he was right, Carter nodded his head. “If I have to tell the truth, I don’t know if I can live here without her.”
    He took in a deep breath. Memories of Lacey were both good and bad. He knew it would never go away, but he could at least make this conversation better.
    “Speaking of Lacey…”
    He’d gotten the old man’s attention.
    Leaning back to take a drink, Sergeant Henry focused on what Carter was about to say because he detected a more positive difference in his voice.
    “I’ve been in the works of putting together a gala.”
    The sergeant spit into his cup as he half choked and laughed.
    “A gala? You? ” he asked.
    Carter gave him a look as if he had just eaten something vile.
    “Yeah, Sarg. A gala. Me. Shut the hell up and listen.”
    Still chuckling under his breath, the sergeant mocked him, making the “taking a key and locking up his mouth” motion.
    “I’ve been working with some of my brother’s friends who put together the opening of his business down at the beach. I wanted to put something together—a benefit, or dance-like thing—to start a scholarship in Lacey’s name.”
    The last thing Carter said got the sergeant’s attention and he stopped heckling him, becoming more interested and curious with the plan.
    “What made you come up with this idea?” he asked.
    Carter leaned forward, scratching his head. He couldn’t remember when the thought occurred to him just that it had.
    “I don’t know. I guess just thinking about Lacey one night and how she always enjoyed helping others. It was always like her to do things for people—something positive to help them. She loved kids, loved teaching, and loved being outdoors as well as being physical. I guess I thought if I could put something together that would make kids want to be both active and take school seriously, that she’d somehow like it.” He seemed to want approval.
    Sergeant Henry came around his desk and sat on the edge. The older man looked at Carter and nodded his head in agreement with him. Memories of Lacey and her constant encouragement with the kids in the area still served him well.
    “I think you’re right,” he said, placing a supportive hand on Carter’s shoulder. “She’d like you doing that.”
    Both men sat on their memories of Lacey for a few moments while a comforting silence prevailed over their respective thoughts of her.
    “So…” the sergeant began, slapping Carter on the