CHAPTER 64
“Abe E,” Mike read.
“Yup,” Ash said proudly.
“What does theEstand for?” Mike asked.
“Well, I don’t know that,” Ash said. “I’m an artist, not a psychic.”
“Funny you should say that; seems your fiancée is a baker and a psychologist.”
“Huh?” she asked, looking at her brother.
“Long story,” I said, and then sighed.
“SEE? HA!” Emelia said. “You sighed.”
“I . . . I . . . Okay, so I did,” I conceded.
“You do sigh a lot, now that I think about it,” Ash said.
Mike gave a small, self-satisfied smile. “Well, at least I don’t stare.”
I looked at him pointedly.
“Oh, yeah.” Ash started nodding. “He does stare a lot.”
“Okay, change of subject, thanks,” Mike said quickly. “What do we think the Abe is short for? Abraham?”
“Could just be Abe?” I suggested.
Ash stood up straight and stretched out her shoulders. “All this detective work has made me hungry. What’s for dinner?”
“Haven’t started it yet,” Emelia said. “Been too busy trying to solve the world’s problems.” She smiled at us.
“Did I miss something?” Ash asked.
“Oh, yes—somethingbeing the operative word, there,” Emelia replied. “Something that could be nothing, or something, or whatever.”
And then, suddenly, Ash looked over at me and gasped. “What’s wrong with your face? You’re red!”
I raised my hands to my cheeks and everyone looked at me.
“You weren’t kidding,” Emelia said. “You do go bright red, if you drink.”
I looked over at Mike and, this time, I got a smile out of him.
“Oh, God—this is why I don’t drink. Soooo embarrassing.” I tried to hide my face.
Ash burst out laughing. “You go red when you drink?”
I nodded.
“That would make your job easy, Mike,” she said. “No need for a breathalyzer.” Ash pulled my hands away from my face. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s just making you redder,” she said.
“Am I splotchy, or is it at least even?” I asked.
The three of them looked at me and then looked at each other, slowly.
