Russo gave me a high-level view of meeting Mateo’s mom and talking to some cousins who claimed he was creepy and hyper as a kid and said that nobody liked him, and that everyone was relievedhe became a stuntman because he was reckless and liked breaking things. I thought about the stunt driving again from the Wagoneer. It might all fit.
Yet, even as Russo spoke, I was distracted by his thick neck and the hint of a collarbone since he had his shirt unbuttoned at least two buttons. For Russo, that was downright casual.
Russo finished his wine, frowning at my barely touched glass.
“You can’t let that go to waste,” he said. “It’s $150 a bottle.”
I blinked and drank some more. Maybe the wine was growing on me? Then it dried out my nasal cavity. Nope. Definitely not. The second I put my glass down, Russo poured more into it.
“So, were you going to tell me why you decided to spend the night at your brother’s best friend’s house?”
“Wait, how did you—”
“I know everything.” Russo shrugged a beefy shoulder. “But it was that nice lady with the Farrah Fawcett hair who lives next door to Koi.”
I groaned. Tammy struck again. How had she known? And then I realized how: through Ted Anderson, our attorney.
I felt my face flame red. “Right, well…”
Russo narrowed his gaze at me. “We still haven’t ruled out Cheese Nerd as a suspect,” Russo told me.
“Jude isn’t a killer.”
“I looked into him.” Russo shook his head in disgust. “He had opportunity. He was in Chicago. Also, can we talk about your personal life a second? First bargain-bin Spider-Man and now Dr. Cheese? You need to raise your bar.”
“He’s a good guy,” I said, unusually defensive. First of all, he dragged me from a lake twice without worry for his own personal safety.
Plus, there was all that skin-on-skin contact and the release of oxytocin that was messing with my brain. Or maybe it was the omelet. I was always a sucker for a hot breakfast.
Russo slapped a hand on the table and made me jump. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he chastised me. “Though, honestly, that beta cuck?” Russo shook his head. “I doubt he has it in him.”
I felt a ripple of anger. “Jude’s not weak.”
Russo raised an eyebrow. “He’s the poster child for weak,” he said. “I bet he was bullied in high school.” He studied my face. “I knew it. He was, wasn’t he?” Russo chuckled to himself.
“And I’m guessing you weren’t?”
“No,” Russo said and laughed. “I was always the bully. Never the bullied.” He studied me. “Cheese Nerd could be playing you. Spider-Man is definitely playing you.” Russo fixed me with a heated gaze. “And you can’t just go off on your own. It’s too dangerous. Do I have to put you under surveillance?”
I shivered at the thought of Russo watching me 24/7.
“No. I’m… I’m sorry.”
Russo’s frown lessened a bit. He reached across the table and took my hand as he softened his tone. “I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know you’re in danger.”
I nodded and took a gulp of my wine and instantly regretted it. A headache was already started to form behind my eyeballs. I should just tell Russo that red wine isn’t my favorite, but then again, he’d already ordered a bottle.
Also, where was the appetizer? The wine was going straight to my head. I guess that’s what I got for only eating an omelet today.
“Let’s talk about Spider Guy. When was the last time you saw him?”
“Day before yesterday,” I said as my stomach grumbled. Where was Marjorie and that menu again? “He was taking a shower in my trailer.”
“Why?” Russo asked, voice sharp.
“Nothing happened,” I said, defensive, and then wondered why I should feel that way. “I had kicked him out. He asked to shower before he hit the road.”
“And you met this guy on a hookup app?”
