Part 44 (1/2)
Good for him.
She carried the dish and bottle to the kitchen, then stepped out onto the terrace. Surprised to see the telescope, she moved to it. When she looked through the eyepiece, the lighthouse filled her view.
She couldn't blame him for that. In fact it made her wish she had a telescope of her own. Hugging her arms against the chill, she stepped to the edge of the terrace to scan the beach.
And there he was, she noted, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched a bit against the wind. She watched until she saw him veer toward the beach steps.
She went back inside, poured two gla.s.ses of wine, then carried them both to the door to meet him.
”Gorgeous day, isn't it?” She pa.s.sed him a gla.s.s. ”You can almost smell the leading edge of spring if you try hard enough.”
”Spring? My ears are frozen.”
”They wouldn't be if you'd worn a hat. I've got the fire built up again in the main parlor.”
But his gaze had already landed on the kitchen counter. ”You brought more cookies.”
”They're for later.” Deliberately she stepped over to block him. ”After wine, conversation, ma.s.sage, then the really excellent ham and potato soup and beer bread I made this afternoon.”
”You made soup and bread.”
”I considered it therapy after dealing with the police. You reap the rewards. They came here, too.”
”Yeah, they were here.”
”You can tell me about that while we drink this wine. Or do you want me to go first?”
”Chronological order.” He stripped off his jacket, tossed it on a kitchen stool. ”What?” he said when she just stared at him, eyebrows lifted.
”Didn't your mother teach you to hang up your things?”
”For Christ's sake,” he muttered, but he s.n.a.t.c.hed the jacket up, walked to the laundry room to tag it on a peg. ”Better?”
”In fact, perfect. Chronological puts me first.” On impulse she grabbed the bottle of wine. ”In case,” she added as she started toward the big parlor.
”You set this up?” he said when he saw the ma.s.sage table.
”I did, and get the weird thoughts out of your head. A ma.s.sage is a ma.s.sage, s.e.x is s.e.x. You may get one with the other, but not when I'm charging you. And I am.”
”For the ma.s.sage or s.e.x, because I should know the rates going in.”
”You're a funny guy when you're not brooding.” She sat on the sofa, curled up her legs. ”So, basically, I had to take the two detectives, one local, one Boston, through what happened here on Thursday night when I initially came in to check the windows, backtrack to my conversation with Duncan in the church bas.e.m.e.nt. Toggle back to what time you came back from Boston, meeting me at Mike and Maureen's, coming here to talk to Vinnie. What I said to him, what you said, what he said-all of which you already know. Going down to the bas.e.m.e.nt, ultimately finding the big hole, and verifying I stayed over, cras.h.i.+ng on this very spot. What time I got up, which was about six. At which time I considered going upstairs and crawling into bed with you, though I didn't see the need to tell them that.”
”You didn't see the need, apparently, to tell me either until now.”
”No, I didn't. You were dead asleep. I did go up,” she added.
His eyes narrowed. ”You came upstairs that morning?”
”I did. I woke a little uneasy-residual stress, I guess. And really grateful I wasn't alone, but with all of the night before playing around in my head so I felt alone down here. I went to see if you were, by any chance, awake, and you weren't. I debated waking you up, decided against. The fact was, seeing you up there helped me not feel alone down here.”