One Last Breath by Sarah Sutton (speld decodable readers txt) 📗

at her before taking out a plate of leftovers. He knew her well enough in this career now to understand when something was too much to talk about, and questions were better left unasked.

She changed the subject. “How was practice?”

A smile instantly formed as he placed his food in the microwave. “It was good! I think we’re definitely ready for the gig tomorrow. You’re coming right?”

She had almost forgotten about John’s gig and that she’d told him she’d try her best to be there. But now as the case progressed and was prolonged, she knew it was becoming more unlikely. “I really want to be,” she started as his face fell into a frown. “But this case, I really can’t promise anything.”

He sighed. He was clearly let down, and Tara felt bad causing him disappointment. She truly did want to be there, but she had no clue what tomorrow would hold, and she didn’t want to get his hopes up.

He took a seat next to her, his plate of food steaming in his hands. “If you can make it, it would really mean a lot to me. And I think you would really enjoy being there too.”

Tara nodded. “I’ll do my best,” she said.

He smiled weakly, but he still couldn’t hide the disappointment behind it. He ate in silence as his eyes remained steady on the food in front of him.

“Everything okay?” Tara asked. He was deep in thought, way deeper than their conversation should’ve caused.

Her words sent a jolt through his body. “Of course!” The words burst out of him as he suddenly straightened his posture and forced a wider smile.

If Tara questioned his behavior before, she was now fully aware that he was acting odd. She chuckled slightly at the looks of him. Something was on his mind, she was sure of it. She assumed it might be slight anxiety about his upcoming show, although John was never the anxious type. But maybe, she wondered, this was bringing out something new in him.

He relaxed instantly at Tara’s laugh, realizing how he looked. “Everything’s fine, why?” he said in a normal tone and manner.

“No reason,” Tara replied. “How do you feel about having your first gig?” she questioned, trying to see if that was the reason for his behavior.

“I feel good,” he said with a hard nod. “I’m excited.”

Tara looked at him a moment. He was acting normal again. He would’ve told her if he was anxious, but Tara wasn’t going to push it further. And at that thought, something else struck her.

“By the way, did you call me right before you came home?” She had suddenly remembered the voicemail that came in while she was in the shower. She stood up, moving to the bench by the door, where she had left her phone.

“No, why?” John asked, confused.

She had assumed it wasn’t him. After all, he had arrived home right after her phone rang. But if it wasn’t John, then who was it? “I had a call…” She scooped her phone up, too preoccupied to finish her explanation. She unlocked the screen to see a missed call and a voicemail from an unknown number. But she recognized the area code as one from New York. Confusion swirled as she pressed play on the voicemail and held the phone to her ear. A familiar voice came through.

“Hi, Tara,” it started. “This is Owen Reiner.” He paused, as if questioning whether he should go further, but then he continued. “I think I have some information for you. Please give me a call back, only on this number, my cell phone.”

The voicemail ended. She pulled the phone away from her ear, staring at the number. Why would Owen, the corrections officer from her father’s prison, suddenly call her?

“Who was it?” John asked. She could sense his eyes on her, but she couldn’t answer. She was too focused on what she just heard. He had called her a half hour ago. She looked at the time on her phone. It was now nine o’ clock, and a flicker of hope stirred. She could still call him back.

Without even a word to John, she briskly walked down the hall. She could feel his eyes follow her. But she didn’t have time to explain, and she wanted to make this call alone. She entered the bedroom and sat down on the bed, her phone still sweaty in her grip. She stared at the screen a moment as she took a deep breath. What could he want to tell me? Did something happen to my dad? The question stirred a mix of emotions inside her. No, she finally said to herself. He wouldn’t have told me to call him on his cell phone. The only reasonable explanation was that he had maybe decided to hand over the visitation records after all. It would make sense why he called her privately, why he only wanted her to return the call on his cell. It was the last and only thing she had spoken to him about.

Her heart thumped in anticipation as she pressed the send button and held the phone to her ear. Her heart raced as heat radiated on her skin.

The phone rang a couple times, and then—

“Hello?”

“Owen?” Tara asked. She tried to steady her voice, which shook slightly with anticipation.

He was quiet a moment. “Tara?”

“Yes.”

“One minute,” he said abruptly before the sound of footsteps and the closing of a door. A slightly out-of-breath voice then resurfaced. “I’m glad you called.”

Tara didn’t know what to say. Everything about this call was strange. She and Owen knew each other, but they weren’t close friends; they didn’t keep in touch. She knew in the back of her mind that he would only be calling her if he had something important to say, and she just hoped it had to do with the visitation records.

He steadied his breathing and sighed. “I’m really not supposed to be doing this,” he said before pausing as if second-guessing the call altogether.