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Haven looked at him. “I don’t know what that means.”
He waved her off. “This friend of yours . . . was he anywhere near as handsome as me?”
She laughed. “Not quite, but few are.”
“Shit, is that a compliment?” He stopped walking, dramatically blinking his eyes. “Are you flirting with me?”
Haven rolled her eyes and refused to respond, continuing to walk. He had no choice but to move again to catch up with her.
“Seriously, was that a compliment?” he asked. “I can’t tell when you’re being sarcastic.”
“I’m never sarcastic.”
“Oh.” He paused. “Wait, was that sarcasm?”
Haven shook her head. “It was a compliment. I meant it.”
“Wow, I’m shocked,” he replied, grinning widely. “I honestly thought you were still entertaining the idea of a restraining order. Good to know I’ve worn you down enough that you like me a little bit.”
She laughed. “I never said I liked you. I just said you were handsome. That says nothing about your personality.”
“Now I know that was sarcasm,” he declared.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
He clutched his chest. “I’m hurt.”
Haven nudged him playfully with her elbow. “You’ll get over it.”
* * *
A sheet of notebook paper was taped to the glass of the locked art studio door that Friday, class cancelled scribbled on it with pencil. No explanation—just no class.
“Awesome!” Kelsey dramatically fist pumped in celebration. “No class!”
Haven frowned. She always looked forward to painting. “Wonder why?”
“Who cares?” Kelsey asked. “I have extra time to hit the computer lab and work on my design project now. Maybe I won’t be stuck in the house all weekend after all.”
“I guess that means I have time to . . .” Haven trailed off, unable to think of something to do. “go to the library.”
Kelsey laughed. “You spend more time there than at home.”
Haven shrugged. It was probably true.
o;Do it,” he barked on the tape. “When I wake up tomorrow, I better not hear about him still breathing, or you might not be by the time I go back to bed.”
Corrado ran his hands down his face in frustration. How would his lawyer explain that one away?
Tape after tape, threat after threat. Little in the way of proof but a whole lot of damning insinuation.
They were all restless when the prosecution put on the last recording of the day. Corrado sat back in his chair, tensing when a familiar voice spoke through the speakers.
“It’s done,” Vincent said. “Happened tonight. Finally.”
Corrado pinpointed the conversation immediately. He had been sitting at home when his brother-in-law called from Blackburn to say he had gotten Haven.
“About time,” Corrado said. “How much did you pay?”
