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Now she sounded like Matt. She wouldn’t like it if Beth pointed that out, though.
“You’re wrong,” Beth said quietly. “Please tell me you didn’t let everyone know that I have a feeling I’ve seen another drawing the man did. Or that I’m trying to remember who it was.”
The sulky silence was answer enough. Beth gritted her teeth. “I have another call coming in that I need to take.”
“You just don’t want to talk to me.”
“Right now, I don’t.” Beth cut her off, wishing she hadn’t answered in the first place.
So why was it that Emily saw right through her when she was lying, but Dad didn’t?
Should she tell Tony that Emily had been blabbing? He hadn’t asked them to keep quiet about the drawing, not really. Of course, he might have assumed he didn’t have to, counting on their desire to keep their family’s turmoil private. This uneasy feeling—okay, fear—was probably silly. It wasn’t as if she actually did know anything that would help identify her mother’s killer.
Beth sighed and drove home.
The phone rang again as she was stepping out of the shower. She grabbed the towel with one hand and the phone with the other. Her heart sped up when she saw Tony’s name.
“Hi.” She bent over so her hair dripped on the bath mat and dried her body with the free hand.
“Hey.” His voice was its usual sexy rumble. “You sound out of breath. Is this a bad time?”
“No, I’m just getting out of the shower.”
There was a long, long silence. “Damn,” he said at last. “I wish you hadn’t told me that.”
The day’s stresses melted away, and she smiled in a way that probably looked silly, but who cared? “If I sound a little funny, it’s because I’m toweling myself dry while juggling a phone.”
He groaned. “Can I come over? Right now? You could get back in the shower and start over once I’m there.”
Beth laughed. “Not a chance.”
“Not even for the coming over part?”
Beth hesitated. “I could put something together for dinner, if you’d like.”
“That’s an offer I’ll take,” he said, sounding satisfied. “I’m on my way. No hurry getting dressed. I’ve always wanted to see a woman come to the door wrapped in a towel.”
She blew a raspberry.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TONY WASN’T KIDDING about being on his way. Beth was still hastily French braiding her wet hair when she heard the knock. She finished braiding on the way to the back door.
He looked as sexy as ever but also tired, she thought. Peering past him, she said, “You nabbed the visitor’s spot. You’re lucky. The guy two doors down has friends over at least every other day. He blasts his music.” She grinned. “Hey, if he tries it tonight, I’ll send you over.”
He gave a huff that was almost a laugh. “Breaking up parties is a patrol officer’s job. Lots of fun.”
“I’ll bet.” She started for the kitchen, Tony behind her.
“Has anyone ever told you what amazing legs you have?”
This was the first time she’d worn shorts around him. She was barefoot, too.
“Thank you.” She came to a stop in the kitchen, turning in time to catch him eyeing her in a way that made her blood heat.
So much for the cold shower.
“I can make a creamy sauce with stewed tomatoes that’s good over pasta,” she said. “It’s quick and easy.”
“Good. Can I help?”
“No, why don’t you sit and talk to me?” She stood on tiptoe to reach the cans of stewed tomatoes and evaporated milk. “Oh, did you hear from Officer Webley? Poor man.”
“I did, and why poor man?”
“He’s sunburned.”
Tony tipped his head and scrutinized her. “Your face is a little pink, too.”
Because she was skimpily dressed and he was here. Instead of sitting at the kitchen table, he’d settled on a tall kitchen stool, close enough she could see the individual bristles on his jaw.
“It was awfully hot out there. And boring.”
“So I gather.”
“I didn’t disagree with a single decision either Matt or Emily made about that stuff.” Pulling a fat yellow bell pepper from the refrigerator, she asked, “What about your day?”
