Page 51 of Liar's Point

“You mean her apartment?”

“Yeah. I did some snooping around—”

He laughed. “How did you manage that?”

“I said I needed to use the restroom and then poked around a bit. You know her linen cabinet was completely empty?”

“So?”

“And she barely had any furniture. She had, like, one futon in the entire living room.”

“Sounds like my place.”

She shook her head. “Your place is a bachelor pad. At least you’ve got a TV and, I don’t know, towels in the bathroom, even if they’re crumpled on the floor or whatever.”

“I know how to hang a towel, thank you very much.”

“I’m saying this place looked like a crash pad, not a typical woman’s apartment. It didn’t add up.”

Emmet lifted an eyebrow.

“You think I’m off base, don’t you?”

“That’s not it at all,” he said.

“Yeah, you do. I can tell.”

“I think you’re reading too much into it. This woman’s a yoga instructor. So what if she doesn’t have all the usual crap in her apartment? Maybe she’s a minimalist.”

Nicole sighed. “Maybe.” She popped a fry into her mouth, and Emmet could tell she wasn’t convinced.

Which told him she might be onto something. Nicole was observant. And she had good instincts about people. Sometimes too good. Good enough, for example, to have picked up on the resentment that flared inside him every time the subject of her boyfriend came up. It was the one thing he couldn’t talk to her about. He and Nicole worked together. Full stop. Anything else would fuck everything up.

***

Nicole watched Emmet polish off every morsel of his food and her leftover fries, too. Despite his appetite, she could tell something was still bothering him, although he didn’t want to talk about it.

But deep down he did, or he wouldn’t have invited her here.

The server returned with their check, and they split it down the middle. Nicole’s phone chimed as they were getting up from the table. She checked the screen and slipped the phone into her pocket.

“You need to get that?” Emmet asked.

“No.”

The restaurant was crowded, so they exited the side gate that led directly to the parking lot. Nicole had created a parking space at the end of a row, and Emmet walked her to her pickup even though his was two rows closer.

She gave him a sideways glance. “I’m sorry you had a rough time with the family.”

“It’s fine.”

“People have different reactions to grief.”

He shot her a look. “I know.”

Obviously, he knew. He’d been a cop for eleven years, and he’d dealt with plenty of people in terrible situations.

He stopped beside her truck. Dusk had faded, and the stars were starting to come out. He gazed out at the dark bay, his expression solemn.

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