Page 37 of Dead & Breakfast
“A sexy past?” Sal gasped.
“Themurder, Sal!”
“Oh! But how much more salacious if they were lovers.”
As Sal’s imagination unspooled into a tale taller than its teller, Arthur let his husband’s voice fade into the background. It was possible, he supposed, that Quinn’s and Nora’s animosity was all for show, though there was still the matter of Nora’s alibi. The night of the mayor’s death, Arthur and Sal had flitted in and out of the living room and kitchen while they’d cleaned up until dawn, so he was fairly certain she’d remained inside the inn, unless she had supernatural abilities of her own he didn’t know about. That didn’t mean she wasn’t in on it, just that she hadn’t struck the killing blow.
“Arthur, are you listening to me?”
Arthur was not, in fact, listening to him. “Of course.”
“Isn’t it interesting, the text I just received?” Sal’s eyes glittered with mischief.
“Quite.” Arthur would not have his bluff called so easily.
“Didn’t expect that, did we, Rumble?” Sal placed the phone screen in front of Rumble’s nose. The cat yawned. “What do you suppose she wants with me? Other than my charming company. If you had a phone she might text you, too, Arthur.”
“All right, out with it.”
“Out with what?” Sal’s eyes grew wide and innocent—or as innocent as a six-hundred-year-old vampire could be. “I thought you were listening.”
“You know very well I wasn’t.” Arthur heaved a sigh and placed his notebook in his pocket. “Tell me who texted. We both know you’re dying to share.”
Sal, of course, was already dead, but that was neither here nor there.
“Maybe I don’t want to tell you anymore.” Sal frowned and furrowed his brow. “I don’t need your pity. Rumble is plenty interested in what I have to say.”
Rumble chose that moment to disappear back into the bag, likely to nap.
“Fine. It’s Lore. She says she wants to hang out again.” Sal’s expression turned devious. “What do you think that means? She knows we’re married, doesn’t she? You don’t suppose she—”
A thrill of excitement shot through Arthur, though not at the prospect of whatever risqué proposition Sal had imagined. “It probably means she’s hedging against her text history getting subpoenaed.” He swiped the glasses from his face. “She must have more information about the case.”
“Oh, such delicious dramatics! Yes! I love it when you talk like Hercules Parrot.” Salvatore walked his fingers up Arthur’s arm before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Though I must say, that wasn’t exactly a big reveal. Maybe try it again when we discover something truly tantalizing.”
“It’s Hercule— You know what? Never mind.” Arthur slipped the glasses back on. “Let’s go meet her.”
“She said she’ll be waiting for us by the river. What a romantic adventure!”
Meeting “by theriver” might have been too vague a set of instructions in the previous places they’d lived, but in Trident Falls,it could mean only one thing. A row of shops overlooked the most scenic slice of the Cutlass River as it wound through town, a quick ride from city hall. Charming brick buildings with candy-bright awnings were bustling with Saturday morning shoppers. A wooden boardwalk ran the length of the stores, hanging over the edge of the river enough to allow for what Salvatore would call perfect Instagram moments.
It wasn’t all so perfect, though. Arthur noticed a couple of storefronts were empty, a sign in the window declaring them available for rent. Trident Falls didn’t see enough tourism throughout the year to keep every business afloat, he well knew. As much as Salvatore might think it was poetic for vampires to be in the red, Arthur shuddered to imagine a similar sign hanging over the Iris Inn.
“Oh, let’s get some saltwater taffy!” Salvatore scooped Arthur’s hand into both of his as he made eyes at a nearby candy shop.
“You won’t go to the dentist, and now you want sweets?” Arthur tutted. “You’ll only get your teeth stuck together.”
Salvatore didn’t seem to hear him, or perhaps he was choosing to ignore the implied threat of further torture via dentistry. “Or how about a malt shake? Oh, I love that jacket. What about a sweater for Rumble?”
Arthur couldn’t keep up as Salvatore’s attention hopped from shop to shop. Instead, he looked out toward the river, where verdant trees swayed over slow-moving water.
Lore sat atop the guardrail, perched as lightly as a bird, wearing a delicate lavender silk scarf and loose bangles that jangled together as she waved them over.
“Good to see you out and about.” Lore hopped down and smiled wide at Salvatore. “And you, too, pretty kitty.”
Rumble poked her head from Sal’s backpack to receive Lore’s boop. A passing child let out a squeal and made to approach beforetheir mother hauled them away with a suspicious look at Lore’s pointed ears.
Arthur turned away, forcing himself not to frown, in case Lore thought his consternation was directed at her. “You’ve got something for us?”
