Page 29 of The Woman By the Lake

So she picked Riggs.

Not many people did, but that’s how he thought of himself, more than Doc.

And there was something about the fact she called him what he thought he was that started getting under his skin.

Though, if he was completely honest with himself, she’d done that when she told him not to run through her yard.

“I was talking about the wine,” she continued. “A five-hundred-dollar bottle of wine is a pretty classy apology. I’m not sure how dubious your authority actually is. They know good wine.”

And now it was Riggs who was staring.

“What?” she asked, putting down the spoon and going to the fridge.

“Got that bottle from a bud of mine. Keeping the honesty going, it cost a whack, but not that big of a whack. And after we’re done with it, I’m going to have to take the bottle home with me because, I’m not certain, but better safe than sorry, so I’m gonna have to get rid of the evidence.”

She laughed as soft and sweet as she spoke when she wasn’t pissed off.

No surprise, he liked that too.

“He knows right from wrong,” Riggs went on. “He just chooses to ignore one side of that on occasion.”

The laugh she gave him after he said that was bigger, but it wasn’t louder.

“How long we gotta let this shit breathe?” he asked.

She was pulling out a bowl to toss the bag of Caesar salad mix she’d taken from the fridge.

She set the bowl on the counter and went to the bottle. She checked the label closely and said, “Half an hour.”

“So you know wine,” he noted.

A slight shrug.

She knew wine.

“Would you put together the salad while I set the island?” she requested.

“You got it,” he agreed.

He hadn’t done anything truly domestic with a woman for years.

But as he tossed that salad, and she put out placemats, cloth napkins, cutlery and pasta bowls, that thought didn’t enter his mind.

It wasn’t until a lot later he realized how easy he fell into it.

And how bad that was.

SEVEN

Flower Lights

Riggs

It was after dinner.

She made good spaghetti, spiced up the sauce just right, not too hot, not bland by a long shot.

It was excellent.

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