Page 105 of No Saint
When everything was in the oven, I took a seat at the table across from Wolf.
“So, I Googled the serial killer.”
He glanced up from his homework, pencil in hand, and one brow lifted. “Of course you did.”
“No, listen. The guy was nearly ninety years old, right? But there have been six unresolved missing kid cases in Pikestown between the sixties and the nineties.”
The arch to his brow grew. “Kids go missing all the time.”
“Yeah, but in the last twenty years, since he got old and probably too slow to run them down…nothing.”
Deadpanning me, he put down his pencil and folded his massive, tattooed arms over his book. “Let me guess, you want to go back in the daytime and look for graves?”
A shiver lifted the hairs on my arms, like the old man’s ghost was touching me. “What? No!” I patted myself in an effort to shoo it away.
“Just think. You could solve cold cases.” He picked up his pencil again and scribbled an equation down in his notebook. Doing the parentheses first, just like I taught him. “Maybe Pikestown would give you a key to the city.”
“Who would want that?”
“Plenty of people.”
“A key to New York, sure, but Pikestown…” I swept a stray crumb from the table, which Squishy immediately gobbled up. “Anyway, I’m telling you, we profited from a serial killer.” Then a thought occurred to me. “If they figure out it’s him, they’d find our DNA in his trailer.”
Wolf shoved up from the table, went to a drawer, and pulled out a box of tinfoil. “Here.” He ripped off a sheet on his way back to the table. “I think you need this,” he said, laying the foil over my head.
“When this becomes some massive thing, I’m going to say I told you so.” Pushing to my feet, I snatched the foil away while he grinned.
“Wonder what they’d call him? The Tooth Fairy?” Wolf chuckled to himself. “Molar Murderer.”
I went to the oven and pulled out the bubbling casserole, studying it like it would have a flashing beacon saying it had salmonella. “The Canine Carver.”
“Smells good,” Wolf said.
Well, at least it had that going for it. I dished it up, trying to pretend I wasn’t nervous. Last time, it was just him who had gotten food poisoning. This time, I figured I should at least go down with him.
“I cooked the chicken really well.” I put the plates on the table.
Steam rose from Wolf’s fork when he shoveled a heaping amount into his mouth, no hesitation—brave man—or apparent feeling in his mouth.
His eyes widened. I was certain he was about to spit it out. “Holy shit. This is good.”
I speared a piece of chicken. It was about as moist as the Sahara. Evidently, he had low standards, but it was definitely cooked.
Halfway through dinner, Wolf’s phone vibrated on the table. I wouldn’t have looked, but it kept going and going. And he made no effort to answer. I stilled at the sight of Nora’s name flashing on the screen. The photograph of the two of them at Hendrix’s party popped into my mind, and unease trickled over me.
Wolf eventually silenced the phone, then crammed more food into his mouth. Meanwhile, I stared at the now-dark screen. So, we were just going to ignore that…
“We’re still friends,” he said nonchalantly. Like being good enough friends with an ex that she called on a random Thursday night wasn’t a big deal…
“I didn’t ask.” I knew my tone was snippy, but I couldn’t help it.
“Your face doesn’t hide shit, Jade.” Another mouthful of food. “You’re pissed.”
How very observant of him. I reminded myself that men could be idiots. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned the hard way, Wolf, it’s that it’s never ‘just friends’ for somebody.” Appetite gone, I put down my fork. “Especially when you’ve fucked them.”
His gaze fell to his plate. “Look, I never should have dated her. We were friends, and then you broke up with me.” So, it was my fault… “If anything, I used her to try to get over you.” He looked at me, and I hated the guilt tinging his features. Because I knew it was for Nora. “I don’t want her.”
“She wants you, though.”
