Crime Seen

  ‘‘Yep. Craig said he’d keep us posted—but maybe this will give us a little more time to prepare anyway.’’

  Dutch nodded. ‘‘Sounds good. You still staying for dinner or does Noel want you to get your butt home?’’

  ‘‘Oh, I’m staying,’’ Milo said, taking his seat. ‘‘I’ll just need to stop off and get her some flowers on the way home.’’

  Later that evening, after returning all the requests for appointments, I came upstairs and found Dutch lounging on the bed in a pair of black boxer briefs with big red hearts. ‘‘Interesting underwear,’’ I said to him as I unfastened my watch and set it on the nightstand.

  ‘‘The interesting part’s under the underwear, babycakes,’’ Dutch said, giving his eyebrows a wiggle.

  I laughed and shimmied out of my jeans, stepping over my two suitcases to toss them in a nearby pile of dirty clothes. ‘‘You know I have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, cowboy.’’

  Dutch clicked the TV off and rolled over on his side to rest his handsome head on his hand and make goo-goo eyes at me. ‘‘What if I do all the work?’’ he suggested, his voice deep and throaty.

  I sighed as I looked at him. I was starting to waffle. ‘‘You know,’’ I said, ‘‘I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into this morning routine, but Candice is right. I really do need to start working out.’’

  ‘‘Well, how about you come over here and let me give you a workout?’’

  ‘‘I don’t know,’’ I said as I took off my shirt and tossed it in the pile. ‘‘I may not be in the mood.’’

  I watched as Dutch’s mouth set and he stared down at the comforter. Then he said, ‘‘Okay,’’ and rolled onto his back, clicking the TV back on.

  I stood there dumbfounded for a beat or two. ‘‘That’s it?’’ I said sharply. ‘‘You’re just going to give up and go back to watching the game?’’

  Dutch gave me a puzzled expression. ‘‘Did you want to talk or something?’’ he asked me, and shut the TV off again.

  I looked at the set and back to him, my anger beginning to mount. ‘‘What the hell’s happened to you anyway?’’ I demanded. ‘‘Seriously, Dutch. I know I got shot, and I’m dealing with this stupid post-traumatic crap, but what the hell happened to you?’’

  Dutch blinked at me and sat up. ‘‘Abby,’’ he said in a very calm voice. ‘‘I’m going to need you to give me a hint here, ’cuz I really don’t know why you’re upset.’’

  I scowled at him and turned to the suitcase where I kept the tank top and shorts I slept in. I paused and folded my arms, trying to keep a lid on the hurt and anger bouncing around inside of me. ‘‘I miss us,’’ I said finally. ‘‘I miss you.’’

  ‘‘Edgar,’’ he said softly, ‘‘I’m right here, babe. I haven’t gone anywhere.’’

  ‘‘The hell you haven’t,’’ I barked. ‘‘What happened to the guy who used to flirt with me until I gave in? The guy who would know that my saying ‘I’m not sure I’m in the mood’ means ‘put me in the mood already’!’’ Dutch was silent behind me and I waited a beat before continuing. ‘‘I got injured, Dutch—I haven’t died. I’m beginning to think that the reason I keep retreating from the world is because I’m afraid of it. And I think you’re making it easy for me to feel that way.’’

  ‘‘I see,’’ he said, and I could tell I’d struck a nerve.

  ‘‘No, you don’t,’’ I sighed, opening my suitcase to fish out my jammies. ‘‘You think that I’m blaming you, but I’m not. I just want you to be you again. I don’t want you to tread carefully around me. I don’t want you to treat me like I might break, and shelter me from the world. I want you to push me—hard. Every time I back off something that’s a step in the right direction, like going back to work, or helping Milo, or working out with Candice, I want you to be there to call me on my shit.’’

  ‘‘Fine,’’ he said as I turned around and met those fabulous midnight blues. ‘‘I promise I’ll push, but I guarantee you’re not gonna like it.’’

  ‘‘Of course I’m not gonna like it,’’ I said, smiling at him. ‘‘But I’ll love you for being in my corner, cowboy.’’

  ‘‘Get over here,’’ he said, his own mouth curling into a seductive grin. ‘‘I have something interesting to show you, and a mood to get you in.’’

  The crack of dawn came friggin’ early the next morning, and I so wanted to do nothing more than roll over and go back to sleep. Dutch, however, was taking his new responsibility of pushing me back into the swing of things with relish. He leaped up at the sound of the alarm and came around to my side of the bed. ‘‘Morning, sunshine!’’ he sang, his voice so loud it echoed off the walls. ‘‘Rise and shine!’’

  ‘‘Five minutes,’’ I mumbled and pulled the covers up.

  ‘‘Not even five seconds,’’ he said and yanked the covers right off the bed.

  I curled around my pillow and pulled my knees to my chest. I can be a stubborn git when I want to be. ‘‘Five minutes!’’

  Dutch pushed his arms under me and picked me right up out of bed. ‘‘You don’t want to be late,’’ he said and carried me to the bathroom, where he plopped me down on the side of the tub. ‘‘A little cold water should do the trick,’’ he said as I worked to open my eyelids.

  A second later the faucet went on and I felt the shock of cold water on my face. ‘‘Hey!’’ I yelled and swatted at him. ‘‘Stop!’’

  ‘‘Just pushing you along, Abs.’’ He laughed. ‘‘Here,’’ he said, and put my toothbrush in my hand. ‘‘Don’t want to send you off to the gym with morning breath.’’

  Fifteen minutes later Dutch had dropped me at my car, which had been left at the lot of the grocery store, and was headed back home to take a long hot shower and wake up properly. The clock on my dashboard read five forty-five a.m. and I groaned at it as I swung out of the parking lot and headed to the gym, which was only a few blocks away.

  I made it there in time to see Candice’s car coming down the street from the opposite direction. She parked next to me and hopped out. ‘‘Morning, Abs!’’ she said happily. ‘‘Glad to see you actually made it.’’

  ‘‘Is everyone cheerful in the morning?’’ I groused. ‘‘It’s still officially nighttime until the sun comes up, you know.’’

  Candice yanked on my ponytail while she held the door of the gym open for me. We made our way to the counter, where she signed in and presented the clerk with a coupon for a free guest pass. ‘‘We’ll get you a membership after we work out,’’ she said and led the way to the locker rooms.

  The gym was surprisingly crowded for so early in the morning. ‘‘Where did all these people come from?’’ I asked as I put my keys and sweatshirt in a locker.

  ‘‘Some people would rather work out before work than after,’’ she said. ‘‘Come on, let’s find a treadmill before they’re all taken.’’

  ‘‘I thought we were going to skip the cardio,’’ I complained, slightly panicked that Candice would find it amusing to see how long I could run before collapsing. Little did she know it’d be about ten minutes.

  ‘‘I’m going to have you walk at a brisk pace for twenty minutes to warm you up. I also want you to increase your protein intake for the next several days. You’ll be craving the carbs, but just try and resist and stick with the protein as much as you can.’’

  ‘‘Right. I’ll order the meat lovers pizza,’’ I said, stepping doubtfully on the treadmill. Candice punched several buttons and I started walking. The pace was fine, and within a few minutes, I could feel the blood flow waking me up.

  ‘‘You okay?’’ Candice panted from the treadmill next to me. She was running at a really good clip and I felt like an idiot just walking next to her.

  I held up my thumb and hit one of the buttons, which picked up my own pace a little. Candice smiled and gave me a thumbs-up back. ‘‘That’s the spirit,’’ she said and we finished our time in silence.

  Next we headed over to a row of benche
s. I sat down and looked up at her expectantly. She took off her light sweatshirt and my mouth dropped at the lean muscles running up her arms and shoulders. ‘‘Damn, girl!’’ I said to her. ‘‘You look like that chick from Terminator II!’’

  Candice smiled and flexed her bicep. ‘‘We’ll get you here in six weeks,’’ she said. ‘‘You wait, Abs. I’m going to turn you into the bionic woman. Now, we’re going to do butterfly exercises first,’’ she said as she selected two dumbbells from a rack in front of us, then made her way over to the bench next to me and lay back on it. ‘‘The motion looks like this,’’ she said as she raised the dumbbells directly above her, then moved each out to the side and down, then back up in one fluid motion.

  ‘‘Looks easy enough,’’ I said, and lay back on the bench while Candice selected two dumbbells for me and came over to place them in my upraised hands. ‘‘Go slow, Abs, and let me know if they’re too much weight.’’

  I tested the dumbbell in my left hand a little. It felt just right. ‘‘No sweat, Candice. This is fine.’’ My hands separated as my arms brought the weights out, but just when my right hand had reached about a quarter of the way down, a sharp pain tore across my chest. I dropped the dumbbell from my left hand, which tilted me off balance, and I rolled right off the bench onto the floor. ‘‘Shit!’’ I said when I hit the floor.

  ‘‘Ohmigod!’’ Candice said as she bent down next to me. ‘‘Abby! What happened?’’

  Every breath I took sent ripples of pain through my chest. ‘‘I think I tore something,’’ I said through gritted teeth.

  ‘‘Can you stand?’’ she asked me.

  ‘‘Give me a sec,’’ I said, holding up a finger. ‘‘Just give me a sec.’’

  ‘‘Is she okay?’’ I heard a male voice say above us. Squinting up, I saw some sort of Greek god hovering over us, wearing a skintight T-shirt with STAFF in big white letters on the front.

  ‘‘I don’t know,’’ Candice said. ‘‘She was shot in the chest a few months ago, and I think I may have reopened her wound!’’

  ‘‘I’m fine,’’ I said as I moved to a sitting position. ‘‘Really, I’m okay,’’ I added when the two of them didn’t look convinced.

  ‘‘Maybe we should call an ambulance,’’ Candice said, her eyes pinched with worry.

  ‘‘No!’’ I barked. There was no way I wanted to ride in another damn ambulance—not for a long, long time. ‘‘I’m fine, really,’’ I added, realizing that the seizing pain in my chest had subsided substantially. ‘‘I think it’s just the scar tissue. My physical therapist warned me it would be tight.’’

  ‘‘She was really shot?’’ Staff Guy wanted to know.

  ‘‘Yes. In the heart,’’ Candice said dramatically as she swept her hair demurely behind her ear.

  ‘‘Is she a cop or something?’’

  ‘‘No, but I’m a PI.’’

  ‘‘Get out of here! My brother’s a PI.’’

  ‘‘Really? Here in town?’’

  I glanced up at Romeo and Juliet, who had completely forgotten about their friend Mercutio, lying on the floor, holding her chest. ‘‘I’ll be over at the water fountain,’’ I said, as I got to my feet.

  Candice turned back to me, ‘‘Oh, God, Abs, I’m sorry. Do you want some help?’’

  ‘‘No, no,’’ I said, wagging my finger at her. ‘‘I’m fine. You two continue your conversation. I’m going to rest over there.’’

  A little while later, Candice came trotting over, a piece of paper in her hand. ‘‘How you feeling?’’ she asked me.

  ‘‘I’m fine,’’ I said and meant it. ‘‘I have a session with Lori, my physical therapist, later today. She can take a look at it, but I really think it’s just the scar tissue.’’

  ‘‘I never should have started you out on butterflies,’’ she said. ‘‘I’m really sorry.’’

  ‘‘Maybe something in the bicep or triceps area would be better until I can stretch this out.’’

  ‘‘No problem. Let’s wait until tomorrow after your therapist okays it, though.’’

  ‘‘Deal. So did you get his number?’’

  ‘‘I did,’’ she said with a big grin. ‘‘His name is Simon.’’

  ‘‘When are you two going out?’’

  ‘‘Tomorrow night. You and Dutch want to double with us?’’

  ‘‘Can’t,’’ I said, smiling. ‘‘I’ve got appointments.’’

  Candice clapped her hands. ‘‘You called my friends!’’ she exclaimed.

  I nodded, feeling a teensy bit of pride. ‘‘Yep. Working my way back into my old life.’’

  ‘‘Good for you,’’ Candice said. Then she stood up. ‘‘Come on, Abs. Let’s treat you to some breakfast, and after that I’m going to head to the office and see what I can start digging up on Walter McDaniel’s murder.’’

  ‘‘Oh!’’ I said, slapping my forehead. ‘‘I totally forgot to tell you. There’s been an update that you should know about.’’

  While we retrieved our things from the locker room, I filled her in on Lutz’s stabbing, including the bit about my radar hinting that Wolfe was behind it. ‘‘Why would Wolfe want Lutz dead now?’’ she asked me. ‘‘I mean, if he was going to blab, wouldn’t he have done it by now?’’

  ‘‘I’m not sure,’’ I said as we made our way to the front and Candice grabbed a membership application for me. ‘‘But if we’re going to dig into this, we might want to try and find out.’’

  Dutch’s car was gone when I got home about an hour later. In its place was a beat-up blue Chevy pickup with a familiar face behind the wheel. ‘‘Hey there,’’ I called to Dave as I parked and got out.

  ‘‘Heard you went to the gym,’’ he said, getting out of his own vehicle.

  ‘‘I did,’’ I said and clicked my heels together smartly.

  ‘‘How’d it go?’’

  ‘‘ ’Bout like you’d expect a field trip with me to the gym would go,’’ I said and headed up the walkway to the house.

  ‘‘I’m picturing dropped dumbbells and lots of swearing.’’ Dave chuckled.

  ‘‘Now who’s clairvoyant?’’ I said, opening the door.

  Dave followed me inside and greeted Eggy, who was much more glad to see him than me. ‘‘Want coffee?’’ I asked as I headed into the kitchen.

  ‘‘Love some. Say, have you had a chance to talk to your sister yet?’’

  I smacked my head. ‘‘Crap!’’ I said and wheeled around to face him. ‘‘Dave, I’m so sorry. I called Cat and she’s totally good with the offer. Call the agent and accept. We can close as soon as they’re ready.’’

  Dave looked up at the ceiling and mouthed, ‘‘Thank you,’’ then glanced back at me. ‘‘I hope they want to close soon.’’

  I cocked my head at him. ‘‘You hurtin’ for money?’’ I asked.

  ‘‘Kind of,’’ he said and avoided my eyes.

  It was then that my radar buzzed and in my mind’s eye I saw a red heart with a split down the middle. ‘‘Oh, my God, Dave,’’ I said breathlessly. ‘‘She left you.’’

  Dave looked sharply at me. ‘‘Turn that thing off,’’ he said, pointing to my head.

  ‘‘When?’’ I asked, coming over to him and grabbing his hand to lead him to a chair.

  Once he’d gotten seated, he began to make little circles on the table with his forefinger. ‘‘Last week,’’ he mumbled. I opened up my intuition and tried to get the skinny. Dave looked up at me again and scowled. ‘‘Stop with the mind reading, Abby,’’ he said, and his tone meant business.

  I turned away and fiddled with the coffeemaker. I didn’t know what to say. Dave had been in a common-law marriage forever. I had no idea what his wife’s true name was, since he always referred to her as ‘‘my old lady,’’ which sounded demeaning unless you knew, like I did, that Dave absolutely worshiped the ground she walked on.

  Dave was silent until I returned to the table with two steaming cups in hand. I sat down across from
him and sipped at my brew, waiting him out. ‘‘I can’t talk about it,’’ he said gruffly.

  I nodded, but just couldn’t keep myself from saying, ‘‘There’s no other guy, you know.’’

  Dave’s eyes met mine and there was a hint of relief there. ‘‘That what your team says?’’

  I nodded. ‘‘Yep. She’s gone because of a broken promise.’’

  Dave sucked in a breath. ‘‘Shit, Abs. You should be on television or something.’’

  I smiled over the rim of my cup. ‘‘It’s a gift. Sure you don’t want to share?’’

  Dave sighed and picked up the sugar bowl from the center of the table. After spooning in four teaspoons, he began softly: ‘‘I came home last Tuesday, you know, after my usual poker game, and she was gone. All her stuff was gone too and there was no note or nothin’. She wouldn’t answer my calls and I just about called the police, I was so worried about her. And then I passed by the fridge and I saw that the calendar had been taped to the door. She’d circled the day before in big red marker. That was my only clue about why she’d gone.’’

  ‘‘Something to do with the promise,’’ I said, feeling a connection. ‘‘And a celebration missed,’’ I added.

  I got another gasp of surprise from Dave, along with a small, mirthless laugh. ‘‘I may kidnap you for my next poker game. We could make a killing.’’

  ‘‘What was the date?’’ I asked, wanting to put the pieces together.

  ‘‘It was our twentieth anniversary.’’

  ‘‘And you forgot it?’’ I said, cocking my head. That fit in my head, but it didn’t feel like that was all of it.

  ‘‘Not only did I forget, even after being reminded about it for months beforehand, but I failed to deliver on the promise I made to her ten years ago.’’

  ‘‘Which was?’’

  ‘‘Well, we’d been together a long time then, and she was pestering me for a ring. The law already recognized us as common-law husband and wife, but my old lady really wanted the diamond. As you know, I’ve never been a big fan of the whole ceremony, so to put her off I made her a solemn vow. I told her that if she and I hung in there for another ten years, I would buy her the biggest diamond I could afford, and make it official.’’