Page 50 of A Murderous Crow
I wrinkled my nose, took a sip, and gave him the rundown, just as though I was ticking off problems an inspector had found making his rounds on a property.
Every once in a while, as he moved about the kitchen, he would ask me, “And your answer?” I would tell him, apprehensive, and blessedly, all he would do was nod and say nothing, but I kind of got the gist that no news was better than bad news. I mean, he wasn’t ripping my head off for any of my answers, and they were pretty much verbatim what he had told me to tell them if they had come knocking.
He set a plate of linguini and clams in front of me, and said, “You did good.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Well, thank you for that! Whatever would I do without your brilliant insight?”
He snorted and said, “You’re a salty little thing today. You need to learn to relax.”
My shoulders sagged in utter frustration, and I said, “Killing people may just be another Tuesday for you, but it most certainly isn’t forme. Honestly, I’m scared to death.”
“Don’t be,” he said starkly, and pinned me with his gaze.
He brought over his own plate and set it down before pulling off his apron and hanging it on the back of his chair.
“Eat,” he ordered gently.
“I’m not used to this,” I said quietly, staring down at the food, which looked and smelled lovely, butlord,my stomach was in knots. How could he possibly expect me to eat at a time like this?
His hand covered mine, where it rested listlessly on the table, and I jolted, meeting his inscrutable gaze with mine.
“I know it’s a lot. I know it’s overwhelming. It does get easier with time, and the best thing you can do for yourself right now is to eat, try to relax, and get a good night’s sleep. Just keep doing what you’re doing with your daily routine.”
“I understand, but I don’t know how.How do you do it?” I asked mollified.
“Just keep calm and carry on,” he said as though it was as simple as that… and I thought about it. Maybe it was? Maybe it was literally just as simple as that. I mean, wasn’t that what I’d been doing essentially this whole time since first coming to Savannah?
“Take a deep breath,” he ordered, and I did, mimicking him as he pantomimed doing likewise in a slightly exaggerated fashion.
“Good, good…” he murmured. “Now eat your dinner.”
I speared some of the Caesar salad on a smaller plate at the top of my place setting with the salad fork that’d been set out.
“Mm!” I perked up a little in surprise.
“Yeah, that’s not a salad kit.” He smiled a little, and it was almost… bashful?
“No?” I asked. “You made this yourself?”
“I mean, it’s probably not as good as Torment makes it, but itishis recipe… so…”
“I don’t think I’ve met him,” I said, and he shook his head.
“You haven’t, yet.”
“Were the three at…?” I faltered, letting the question hang between us.
“They were, and you’ll meet them eventually,” he said. “Just play it cool, like you haven’t before, unless they broach the subject. Understand?”
“Yes, but who were they?” I pressed.
“Does it matter?” he asked, and it was with an earnest stare.
“I mean, I guess, not really…” I mumbled, speared some more salad on my fork, and he sighed.
“Your curiosity is rather insatiable, you know that?” he asked, but it wasn’t rude. “Curiosity killed the cat,” he said gently, and I cocked my head.
“I thought that just the other day,” I said. “Truly… but you know the next line?” He shook his head.
