Page 84 of No Headlines Please

And as soon as I returned to my Monopoly date, I was determined to hear it.

But first, I had to deliver that food. As I entered Tessa's apartment, I was already making a list. Warm up the food. Deliver it nice and hot. And return to Maddox.

Simple, right?

Not hardly.

34

Of Mall Cops and Fresh Meat

Delaney

From his open doorway, Walt frowned at the foil-wrapped plate. "Nah. You keep it."

I glanced down at the plate in my hands. "Sorry, what?"

"I don't need it," he said. "Keep it for yourself."

I gave the plate another look. Had I messed something up?

Back in Tessa's apartment, I'd found a large glass casserole dish and pre-heated the oven to exactly three hundred degrees. I'd lined the casserole dish with foil, arranged the bacon-wrapped shrimp so they wouldn't touch, added the truffle fries on the side, and waited until everything was nice and toasty before pulling the dish out.

Then I'd transferred the food – foil and all – to a sturdy disposable plate so I didn't accidentally give away Tessa's casserole dish in the process. I'd wrapped the whole thing in bonus foil to keep it perfectly warm during the trip up the stairs.

Yes.

The stairs.

Because there was no way on Earth I'd be taking the elevator. Plus, it was only one flight.

To Walt, I said, "But that was part of the deal." I tried to think. "Did you change your mind or something?"

His gaze lingered on the foil-covered plate. He was still frowning, but now he also looked hungry.

I nudged the plate closer. "I warmed it up like you asked."

"I know." He visibly swallowed. "I can smell it."

Did he smell something funny? I lifted the plate and sniffed through the foil. All I smelled was pure deliciousness. Still, I had to ask, "It doesn't smell burnt or anything, does it?" Again, I offered the plate to Walt. "Do you want to pull back the foil and try a shrimp? See if you like it?"

He took a half-step back. "Nope."

"But why?" Now I was the one frowning. "Do you want something else instead?" Call me selfish, but there was no way I was giving up the bisque.

But already, Walt was shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good."

I studied his face. "Are you worried I used the microwave? Don't worry. I warmed it up in the oven, just like you asked."

This made him scoff. "I know you did. You can't use foil in the microwave."

I hated to quibble, but I felt compelled to point out the obvious. "Well, technically, someone could use a microwave without foil, and cover the food after."

"I know." He gave a derisive snort. "I've seen that trick before." He stepped aside and asked, "Why don't you come in for a minute?"

I glanced past him. The apartment looked warm and comfy with a big, plaid sofa that had a knitted blanket folded over one arm. A large television occupied the far wall with two recliners facing it. And just above the TV were three ceramic fish similar to the trout on his door.

I was still eyeing the fish when Walt said, "Hey, I've got something you need."