Part 43 (1/2)
”The guy with the flowers this morning.”
”I knew who you meant. Are you, uh...” He waggled his fingers in the air.
”Manipulating power? No. It's just a hunch.”
”A hunch. Okay.” Pulling his sweats.h.i.+rt sleeve down over his palm, he scrubbed the window clean.
Since she couldn't point out that he'd just mined any chance Sasha Moore might've had of picking up the intruder's scent, Claire shrugged and went back inside to find Austin waiting by his dish.
”Catch him?”
”No. I didn't know you understood dogs.”
”What's the point of insulting them if they can't understand what you're saying?”
”You speak dog?”
In answer, Austin lifted his head and made a noise that could possibly be considered a bark had the listener never actually heard a dog larger than a Pekingese.
”And what does that mean?” Claire asked, trying to keep from laughing.
”Roughly translated...” Austin stared pointedly down at his dish. ”... it means, feed me.”
That evening, Claire was waiting at the desk when Sasha Moore came downstairs. ”Can I speak to you for a moment?”
”Is it going to take long?”
”Not long, no.”
”Good, 'cause I really need to eat before I go onstage or the audience is one major distraction; kind of like performing in front of a buffet table.”
Since there didn't seem to be anything she could safely reply, Claire stood and silently led the way into her sitting room.
”I see old Gus didn't take much with him.”
She didn't want to know the circ.u.mstances under which Sasha had been in these rooms before. It was none of her business.
”You still got his dirty pictures up in the bedroom?”
”I'm removing them as soon as I have time.”
”Uh-huh.” The musician dropped onto the couch and draped one crimson-spandex-covered leg over the broad arm. ”So what did you want to talk to me about?”
Claire perched on the edge of the ha.s.sock, it being the only piece of furniture in the room that was neither overstuffed nor covered in knickknacks. ”I think you're being stalked.”
Long lashes, heavy with mascara, blinked twice. ”Say what?”
Editing for time, Claire recited the day's events and her interpretation of them.
”Look, I appreciate your concern, but the flowers were probably sent by a fan, and you never actually saw the guy in the lot. It could've been one of the local kids taking a shortcut.”