Page 28 of Aftermath
Why was I making an excuse to see her again?
She was holding back.
Instinct told me she knew more than she said. Was she protecting someone? Was she withholding pieces of research from me to put herself ahead at work?
She opened and her mouth and shut it.“Fine,” she answered. “But it will have to be a time when I’m not working.”
She crossed her arms, her lips pulled thin. I could tell she was growing sick of my prying.
The plump orange cat, Birdie, jumped up onto the couch and crawled her way beside lap. She purred, rubbing against the side of the laptop and glancing up to me. I furrowed my brows. I always thought I most related to cats, creatures of habit who wanted to be mainly alone, but this one feline was an anomaly to me.
Lenore made a sound that sounded like her tongue clicking, and the cat stretched its neck to look over at her. It moved faster than I expected, standing and walking directly across the keyboard to her.
“Stop being such a menace,” Lenore scolded as the cat settled beside her.
“When are you off work next?” I asked with a soft laugh.
“Friday.”
“Then it’s a date,” I joked.
“It’s certainly not,” Lenore said quickly.
“Is that not what people say?” I asked, frowning.Was I seriously that out of touch with society?
“I mean it is-” she started, flustered.
“I’ll see you Friday,” I said, standing and heading for her door without another word.
I felt the sudden urge to hurry out of the apartment. I’d just met Lenore, and already, she’d found a way to fluster me and leave my mind reeling. Usually, I was the one in the room with all the answers, and, somehow, I was at a loss of words today.
I never expected her to be this far into the case.
Her work was impressive, and the quick glimpse I caught at the museum told me she threw herself into everything she did with such attention to detail.The director, Francis, had many glowing words about Lenore when I first arrived looking for her. I’d admittedly also done research on her before coming as part of my all-nighter.
“Wait,” she said, following me and grabbing my arm.
I turned my head to glance back at her, those rich brown eyes gazing up at me. My heart pounded.
“Are you actually going to let me help?” she asked.
I didn’t want to necessarily call it helping. She would bring me the documents to print, and then we would go our separate ways. Was that truly helping with the case?
It would end after that, nothing more and nothing less.
“I’ll see you Friday,” I answered instead. “The house on the outskirt cliff to the west of town.”
Her hand let go of my arm, but my heart continued to race. It was the first real touch I’d felt in months. I’d barely let anyone close enough to feel the warmth of the brush of skin against my own. I hurried out of the apartment and let the door slam shut behind me.
6
LENNY
“Who was he?”Mallory demanded later that night after Agent Beck left.
She sipped on the glass of wine I’d poured her as our movie played in the background. Every wine night took place in my apartment. I’d pushed to hold one in Mallory’s, but she was far too embarrassed about what she claimed was a mess.
I doubted it.Mallory was the most particular perfectionist I’d ever known, but it was useless to push.
