Page 150 of A Matter of Time

“Yes.”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s really not.”

“J—”

“Sam—”

“Get your coat, J, we’re leaving now.”

“Maybe you should⁠—”

“I can carry you out if you like.”

And from the furrowed brows I got, I realized he was serious. Funny that I had wanted to meet his friends, but now I was terrified. Reality was always different than you imagined.

Forty minutes later, I stood on the sidewalk in front of Dom’s house in Lake Forest looking at the house for a minute before I turned back to Sam.

“What?”

“Are you kidding?”

“What?”

“This is your friend’s house?” I was stunned.

“Yeah, I know. It looks fancy, right?”

Fancy was an understatement.

“Dom’s wife passed, like I told ya, and her folks helped him buy it. I guess it was something she had asked them to do in the letter she left, take care of him and stuff. His wife wanted him to have a home. Her folks still help him out from time to time, send him money, gifts, and it makes sense, ya know? I mean, if you think about it, he’s all they’ve really got left of their daughter.”

His logic was flawed. “Was she their only child?”

“No.”

Then it really made no sense. “Her parents must be loaded, Sam.”

“Not really, but between what they kicked in and some smart investments Dom made, there was enough for the house.”

I was crazy about the man, without question, but he had no idea what he was talking about. He didn’t know what houses cost; I did. There was no way any amount of savvy investing and money kicked in from well-meaning in-laws yielded a house like the one I was walking into. From stairs that led up to a now-dormant garden, to the glass front door, the huge bay window that faced the street, the sunken living room, the enormous rooms, the full bar, the multi-level deck out back… It was a showpiece, and not one a man on a detective salary could afford. I had snooped and looked at Sam’s pay stubs, and I knew that he and Dominic Kairov were both detectives at the same grade. I had to wonder about the ways Dominic was feathering his nest that the others weren’t, but I wasn’t comfortable asking Sam for those answers. What he wanted to share about his partner I was more than happy to hear, but I got the feeling that probing was out of the question.

Dominic, or Dom, Kairov had been with Sam since their police academy days. They were assigned to the same precinct after graduation and had been through times good and bad. Good being when they had both made detective at thirty-one, and bad when Dominic’s wife had committed suicide two years ago. Her parents, Sam had confided to me, had blamed him not for the act itself, but for the depression that drove her to it. Between his long absences, infidelity, and emotional distance, he had been the opposite of a model husband, so it was even more surprising to hear that they had sprung for half of easily a four-million-dollar house. It made no sense, and Sam should have noticed, but no one, including Sam, questioned how Dominic was living because it wasn’t “nice.” His wife was dead, after all. If he said her family had helped him out, given him gifts, then it must be true. I knew Sam believed Dominic; the man was, after all, his partner, brother, and friend.

As I followed Sam through the house, he was stopped over and over by people wanting to talk to him. He did a lot of handshaking, hugging men and kissing women. I was introduced as simply Jory, but he kept me close, his hand on the back of my neck as he steered me in front of him through the house. On the back deck, sitting around a firepit, were Sam’s closest friends, the detectives he worked with day in and day out. Dominic was the first to his feet, pulling Sam close for the guy-clench before shoving him away.

“Oh, you brought the witness.” He smiled at me before turning to Sam. “That’s what the safe house is for, buddy,” he teased his friend. “Did you miss the memo?”

Sam smirked at him as he groaned that he needed a drink.

Dominic nodded, draped an arm around his shoulders, and led him away. He called back over his shoulder that I could follow them to the bar. I was not asked if I wanted anything because I was not, relatively speaking, Sam’s date. I could fend for myself like any of the other guys. I watched them go before turning around to survey the room. I knew no one, I hadn’t been invited, and I had just been abandoned. It was shaping up to be a great night.

I wandered around looking at expensive artwork, Baccarat crystal goblets on the set table in the dining room, and other lavish furnishings. There were rugs that cost more than my rent, and again I wondered how Dominic Kairov managed it. As I sat down on the stairs beside some women lounging in a small area of the living room, I overheard Sam’s name.

“So who’s that girl with Sam and Dom?” one of them asked.