“Okay,” Delia said quietly, at my elbow. “I need two minutes. Kitchen.”
I looked at her, then at my brother.
“Lucas,” I said. “Go introduce yourself to Reid. He’s?—”
“Already met him,” Lucas said. “We talked for like twenty minutes. He knows a lot about structural engineering.”
“Of course he does,” I said. “Go find Nell. She’ll give you a full briefing on everyone in this room.”
Lucas pointed finger guns at me and headed off.
I followed Delia through the door behind the bar and into Rick’s small back kitchen, which smelled like the coffee Nash had put on earlier and the cold air coming through the window above the sink.
Delia turned around.
“Okay,” I said. “What.”
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Which meant it was bad. Delia Jones did not close her mouth.
“Delia.”
“I know today’s your day,” she rushed out. “I’m not trying to mess that up?—”
“I’ve had enough days, Delia,” I muttered. “Come on. Out with it.”
She groaned, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “I keep running into Aiden Boone at work…like his kid is always in the office, and I swear to god he doesn’t remember we slept together? It’s so embarrassing.”
I nodded. “Delia…his kid goes to our school. It’s a small town. Maybe he’s just trying to be professional.”
“He’s not,” Delia groaned again, always dramatic. “Hehates me.”
“You’re getting in your head over this,” I said. “Delia…you don’t get in your head over anything, and I’ve never known you to keep your mouth shut. Maybe just…I don’t know, say something?”
“Say what, exactly?” she asked. “Hey Aiden, remember me, we had sex the night someone died on your watch and I’ve beenthinking about it ever since?” She shook her head. “No thank you.”
I went very still.
Delia noticed.
“I’ve never told you that part,” she said.
“No,” I said carefully.
She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms, looking at the floor. “The night Amy Kowalski died,” she said. “He came into Rick’s. I didn’t know who he was. I was—I was performing a little, you know how I do. Made myself seem more—anyway. We talked for a long time and then we—“ She stopped. “He left before I woke up. And then Monday morning Dylan Boone was in the office for the first time and Aiden walked in and we just—” She made a helpless gesture. “Looked at each other.”
“Oh Delia,” I said softly.
“I know.”
“That’s not nothing.”
“I know that too,” she said. “That’s the problem.” She looked up at me. “He carries so much. His kid, his job, whatever he’s been carrying since that night. And I’m—I’m me. I’m not exactly?—“
“Stop,” I said.
