The smell of garlic, tomato, and cheese hit me when I reached the dining room. True to his word, he’d brought a tray of lasagna, one that was big enough to feed a small army. I had to admit that it smelled divine, and my annoyed mood softened.
“Wow, I can’t wait to taste that,” I said, setting down the tray with the wine and feeling like a 1950s housewife.
Jack beamed. Tonight, he wore a form-fitting black T-shirt and jeans, along with dark sneakers. I had to hand it to him, he really had that whole “tall, dark, and handsome” vibe down. I’d bet a hundred bucks that his students crushed on him hard.
Behind his back, Vera winked at me, as if to say,go for it. I shot her a simpering grimace. If she was so interested, I didn’t understand whyshedidn’t go for him.
I took a moment to appreciate that in one day I’d been in the presence of two gorgeous men. OK, one had been frustrating and also held my sister’s freedom in his hands—and he possibly thought I was a killer. Still.
Being around good-looking guys had been common in Boston, between the professors and scholars. But they were usually arrogant or taken. Decent, handsome men were a rarity in these parts, and I hadn’t figured out if Jack or Alex fit into the “decent” category.
And probably never would.
“I think the lasagna came out well. Allow me to do the honors.” He reached for the corkscrew and the wine, and easily opened it with a whisper of a cork pop.
“I’ll grab the appetizers and let you two chat,” Vera said, scurrying off.
“How was your day? Get a lot of writing done?” I asked as he poured the wine. “It sounds like you’re working on a fascinating book.”
“Yeah, a thousand words. That’s a good day for me.” He handed me a glass and I thanked him. “How about you? You make any headway on the murder?”
I looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean by that?”
“You seem like the curious type. I figured you’d probably snoop around to see what you could find. You know, to clear your sister’s name.”
The only thing I could clear at the moment was my throat. How had he pegged me for someone who would snoop around? I laughed. “Oh, right. You’re a serial killer profiler. You read people.”
He raised his glass. “Exactly.”
“What’s your assessment of me?”
He inhaled and tilted his head, a small grin on his lips. “I think you’re curious but not judgmental.”
This dude was trying to get in my pants with an answer like that. “Yeah.”
He seemed to grasp that I was onto his tactics and his expression sobered. “Anyway, how did it go? The sleuthing, I mean.”
“I found out a few interesting tidbits.”
Vera was back in the dining room, carrying a plate of pigs in a blanket. I’d hoped she’d serve something a little more sophisticated and with less sodium, but she loved them and had insisted. Now I’d have to listen to her talk about being bloated tomorrow.
“Tidbits about what?” she asked.
“Gene’s murder.” Jack reached for a pig in a blanket like he was a man clinging to a life preserver. Either he was starving or my sister knew her audience.
As he and Vera munched, I told them what I’d discovered at the country club, while interspersing my story with details about Chubbs the alligator.
“Wait, his name is really Chubbs?” Jack wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“It’s common for people to name neighborhood alligators,” Vera said.
I added, “I’m not a fan of it because that anthropomorphizes them. It’s a step toward feeding the gators, which is bad, bad, bad.”
Jack nodded. “Definitely. What happened next?”
“I visited Detective Alex Holt. He’s working out of an old trailer in back of the police station.”
Vera glanced at me, her mouth turned down. “I hope you were there to talk about the gator, not about me.”
