Part 33 (1/2)

Maybe Landon would pay for Lindsay through Duncan. Sometimes justice was serpentine.

For now, the most important thing was to clear out the detective's room, take everything that could possibly connect them. And the same needed to be done in Duncan's office, at his home.

A lot of work.

Best get started.

When Eli came downstairs in the morning he checked the living room. The throw he'd tucked around Abra when she conked out on the sofa lay artfully spread over the back. And, he noted, her boots weren't by the front door.

Better, he thought. Much less awkward after that unexpected and uncomfortable moment between them the night before. Better that he had the house to himself again.

More or less, he thought when he smelled coffee-saw the fresh pot-and the Post-it.

Did the woman have stock in the company? A never-ending supply?

Omelet in warming drawer. Don't forget to turn it off. Fresh fruit in fridge.

Thanks for letting me stay on the couch.

I'll check in later. CALL Vinnie!

”All right, all right. Jesus, do you mind if I have coffee first, see if I have a few brain cells to fire up?”

He poured coffee, added his dollop of cream and rubbed the insistent knots at the back of his neck. He'd call Vinnie; he didn't need to be reminded. He just wanted a minute before dealing with cops and questions. Again.

And maybe he didn't want a d.a.m.n omelet. Who asked her to make a d.a.m.n omelet? he thought as he yanked the warming drawer open.

Maybe he just wanted ... d.a.m.n, it looked really good.

He scowled at it, then took it out, grabbed a fork. And ate it while wandering to the window. Somehow, however stupid, it felt less like caving if he ate standing up.

Balancing the plate, he went outside, onto the terrace.

Brisk but not brutal today, he noted. And that brisk breeze blew the world clear again. Sun, surf, sand, sparkle-it eased some of the knots.

He watched a couple walking on the beach, hand in hand. Some people, he thought, were made for companions.h.i.+p, for coupling. He could envy them. He'd made such a mess of his only serious attempt he'd only escaped divorce through murder.

What did that say about him?

He took another bite of omelet as the strolling couple stopped to embrace.

Yes, he could envy them.

He thought of Abra. He wasn't attracted to her.

And how incredibly stupid was it to lie to himself? Of course he was attracted. She had that face, that body, that way.

He'd rather not be attracted to her, that was accurate. He didn't want to think about s.e.x. He didn't want to think about s.e.x with her.