“Once that’s all done, I figure we could swing back through another drive-thru so I can buy you some ice cream.”
“Really?”
“Mm. Every respectable man knows no date is complete until he provides his wife with ice cream to soothe her sore throat.” He glances across and reveals a wicked grin. “It’ll be sore cause of all the screaming you’ll do while coming.”
“Sheesh.” My belly jumps and my pulse skips. Because angry, dark, hard Archer Malone is a man to be careful with. But flirty, silly, goofy Archer Malone? He makes my toes curl when I least expect it. “You’ve left me speechless.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean, how could you be so young, and yet, so accomplished in the dating world? So intuitive about the things a woman wants?” I sip my soda and smile around the dumb paper straw. “I’m glad we already tied the knot, and I have your signature on our wedding certificate, because once all the other ladies hear about these hot dogs and multiple o’s dates you’re tossing around so casually…”
He exhales a breathy chuckle. “I only have eyes for you, Chief. Forever.”
We drive for another ten minutes after grabbing our food, then Archer cuts the lights and pulls into a vacant parking spot along a road that verges toward industrial. The street boasts a few houses scattered along it, but there are fewer of those than there are shop fronts. And though many of those are closed for the night, there’s one about thirty feet ahead with a massive roller door sitting open, a spotlight beaming down on a car on jacks, and a half dozen guys joking and bopping around the engine bay of what might be American muscle… maybe…
I don’t do cars like I do hand health assessments.
Archer cuts the engine and tips his chin toward the noisy crowd. “That one. Red hat, red polo, blue jeans. Six-two, two-twenty-five, bad attitude.”
I unsnap my seatbelt and settle back contentedly, since we’ll probably be here awhile, then I brush the others away from my mind and focus only on Scott Prim. “He looks like a douchebag.”
“Mmhm.” Archer digs a hot dog from the depths of our greasy paperbag and places it carefully on my thigh. “Total douchebag. One of the douchiest, and I know Cato Malone, so…”
“I mean, Cato’s pretttttty douchey, but I feel like he’d be more upfront about killing someone.” I catch my dinner before it topples to the side, and lick a spot of ketchup from the tip of my finger. “He has a lot of flaws, but I’d like to think his integrity would ensure honesty about his homicidal ways. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.” I slide across the bench seat, moving our things so I don’t have to sit so far away, then leaning against Archer’s side, I study Scott Prim and nibble the end of my hot dog. “He’s playing around in a garage. Looks comfortable around car engines.”
“Mmhm.”
“Which could explain the foreign matter we found embedded in Josey’s wound.” But I narrow my eyes and watch, intrigued, as one of the other guys calls his name and tosses a tool across the top of the hood. “He caught it with his right hand.” I lift my hotdog higher and wait, intent, until Archer takes a bite. “I’m not saying with a hundred percent certainty our killer is left-handed, but that’s my professional assumption. I’ve seen a lot of similar wounds, and to date, I’ve done a pretty good job of guessing correctly. But Scott Prim is right-handed, so?—”
He shakes his head and tugs a container of fries from our takeout bag. “Not exclusively.”
“Really? He’s ambidextrous?”
Smug, he slips a fry between his teeth and grins. “Uh-huh. I think I found a killer today, but convincing a judge he’s a douchebag isn’t the same as convincing him he’s a murderer, so…”
“Did you know the termambidextrousderives from the Latin word ambidexter?”
Amused, he takes his drink from the cardboard tray and pops the lid off to reveal a thick strawberry shake inside. Rather than sipping the liquid through the straw like a normal person, he dips fries in it instead. “Did you know I’m not surprised you know that?”
I roll my eyes. “Ambidexter meansright-handed on both sides. Also, those CT scans we were discussing earlier are how we know ambidextrous people typically have symmetrical brain hemispheres, unlike right-handed or left-handed individuals, and although that symmetry can contribute to higher creativity and problem-solving skills, ambidextrous people typically score lower on traditional intelligence testing.” I watch Archer dip another fry, smother it in thick pink shake, then toss the whole thing into his mouth. “That bothers me.”
“Hm?” He peels his eyes away from the garage. “Ambi folks being dumber than the average Joe bothers you?”
“No. You cross-contaminating your meal like that bothers me.” I scrunch my nose, much the same way everyone did today when they caught a whiff of my new, dead-body-scented perfume, then I bring my focus back to the friends chattering around a car. “Only one percent of the population is truly ambidextrous. Most others are merely faking it to sound cool.”
He chokes out a silly laugh and offers a shake-loaded fry.
“Ew. No thanks.”
“You’re missing out, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head and eats it himself. “This shit is delicious. You got any more cool facts about our ambidextrous fuckwit who may or may not have killed the girl he had a crush on yet?”
“A crush?” I take another bite of my hot dog. “Sounds like you have an update for me.”
“Guess I do.” He leans around me and drops a salty, slightly greasy, icy cold kiss on my lips. “Josey tutored both Prim kids for an hour each per week. Scott has a girlfriend, apparently, but he finagled a ‘let’s study in my room’ situation to save his dignity since he’ssooooembarrassed about studying with a crowd, but that lasted only half an hour before he tried to touch and she threw on the brakes.”
“Really? Rejection is a proven motive all over the globe. Statistics show that more than fifty percent of all homicides involving women are committed by men who have, had, orwishthey had, a romantic relationship with her.”
“Spitting facts, my darling penguin.” He dips another fry, eats it, and groans his approval. “She said no, went back to the dining room, and continued their tutoring session like nothing had happened.”
