Page 22 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind

She nods tiredly and stands up. Mel and Gemma begin to protest, but she shushes them. “I need to be doing something.”

She follows me behind the counter and heads straight to a wall cabinet, opening it and standing on her tiptoes as she rummages around. She can reach the bottom shelf of the cabinet fine, but her fingers fall short of the top.

“What do you need?” I say, stepping up behind her.

She points, her back still to me. “There’s a display platter back there somewhere,” she says.

I nod, reaching up. Her hand falls out of the way, but I have to take a step closer to get to the top shelf. My breath catches in my throat as my body brushes against hers, and I force myself not to freeze or draw attention to it. I don’t want to make things awkward. So I continue feeling around on the top shelf until my hand finds some sort of scalloped edge. I grab it gratefully, pulling it down and then stepping back to put some space between us.

My heart has hummingbird wings, and my ears feel hot.

Heidi turns to face me.

“Here,” I say, holding the platter out to her. It basically looks like a pie pan with a stand attached. “For the muffins?”

“Mm-hmm,” she says, taking it.

“Are you okay?” I ask, looking more closely at her. My hummingbird heart beats its wings more rapidly. “You look flushed.”

She clears her throat. “I’m fine. Just a little warm.” She lifts the hair off her neck with her free hand, and I turn away to hide my smile.

“Let’s get some sustenance,” I say, sliding open the door of the display case.

“The police are getting the security tapes,” she says under her breath as she begins pulling muffins out. “I won’t be able to watch it until they’re done with it. I wanted to see the footage from yesterday, but…” She trails off, sounding frustrated.

“We’ll get it back,” I tell her. “And in the meantime we can keep trying to figure things out on our own.”

She shoots me a skeptical look. Her cheeks aren’t as pink anymore, sadly. “And how are we going to do that?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I just wanted to reassure you.”

She turns her attention back to the display case, but I catch a hint of a smile. “Nice of you.” Then her smile fades, and she begins pulling muffins and scones out with renewed vigor, looking troubled once more.

“Hey,” I say, and I hate the way my voice softens with her, the way I turn all mushy and gentle, because I know how transparent I must be. “It will be okay. All right?”

“Yeah,” she says. “It’s just…” She takes a deep, unsteady breath, and then she looks at me. “What if I knew, Soren?”

I frown.

“What if I knew Carmina was going to die?” she clarifies. “She said she was murdered. What if I somehow found out she was going to be murdered, and that’s the secret I knew?”

I stare at her, dumbstruck. I didn’t even think of that, but…

“That’s unlikely,” I say.

“But possible,” she says.

I don’t want to say it. I want to lie. Anything to remove that little frown from her lips. And yet…

“But possible,” I agree, my voice heavy.

“And what if I could have stopped it?” she goes on. Her words are spilling out in a rush now, and it’s clear that this is what’s been bothering her. “What if I could have stopped it, but I didn’t because I forgot?”

“Stop,” I say firmly. “Don’t do this. Okay?” I take the platter gently out of her grasp and set it on the counter. I debate only for a second before I give in to the urge to touch her; I take her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing absently over her cheekbones. “Whatever you knew or didn’t know, this wasn’t your fault. Okay?”

And she looks perfect like this—her lips parted, her eyes wide, her cheeks turning pink once more.

Shut up,I snap at myself.This is not the time.

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