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“And we’ve just started seeing each other...when you asked me out to celebrate getting out of prison,” she said slowly.
“Or you invited me out to dinner as a thank-you for my great sleuthing...”
She gave him a full grin then, for the first time since they’d entered his home.
And Clarke felt his world start to spin on a dangerous axis.
Chapter 6
Everleigh was still sitting in Clarke’s office, worrying about the advisability of pretending that he was her boyfriend, even as she acknowledged that his plan was solid, when his phone rang. Troy calling, as it turned out, letting Clarke know that her house was no longer a crime scene.
“He advises that we head back over there, let you get things put away, and thus have a better chance to tell if anything’s missing,” Clarke told her, standing up and reaching for the coat he’d had on earlier. He’d thrown it over the arm of the couch along the wall, rather than hanging it on the standing rack right by the door.
Something she’d already noted. She liked his laid-back nature, his lack of rigidity—unlike Fritz, who’d been so adamant that all routines were in place for good reason and deviation from them would cause chaos, which led to a less healthy lifestyle.
Ha! Screwing around had obviously been routine for the real Fritz Emerson and had definitely not been good for his health. Assuming that Clarke was right and one of Fritz’s mistresses was his murderer.
“He’d like you to get things put back in their normal places, so you’ll know if something’s been moved, and then the department’s going to set up some security cameras inside the house. Ransacking a house because you’re angry is one thing, but with you thinking someone’s been in and out of your house...we need to have full-time surveillance going. To know what’s going on.”
“Could be whoever was there was there to kill me and just chickened out.” She’d been kind of thinking that all morning.
Until he shook his head. “Doesn’t make sense. This is probably the same person who murdered your husband in that same house by bashing his head in with a paperweight. More likely, the perp is looking for something. And if they didn’t find it this morning, chances are, they’ll be back.”
His words made her shiver. Not in a good way.
And she hoped whoever was after something had found it. Or would just ask for it. There was nothing in that house that was worth more to her than her safety and freedom. And she was determined never to lose those again.
* * *
Clarke helped where he could at Everleigh’s house. Not one to stand around idly, or to be good with little to do, he busied himself with straightening and organizing, so that Everleigh could come behind him and put things away where they belonged. He’d established straight-out with Everleigh that he would stay close to her. The police had just cleared out. He knew there was no one else in the house. But that didn’t mean someone couldn’t come in. Most particularly since she’d had the feeling someone had been in the house the night before.
Everleigh didn’t argue.
They tackled the kitchen first and worked as though they’d been on the job together for years, not like they were inventing it as they went along.
She was completely quiet at first. He left her to her thoughts. Wondered a bit about what kind of memories she’d made in the house. And how much of what she was touching reminded her of her deceased husband.
As she put away the groceries, she offered to make them some grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches for lunch, then to bring the fruits and vegetables to his place. Since he wasn’t good at grocery shopping—he tended to forget about fresh food and let it spoil on his watch—he accepted the offer. But he refused to make anything of the sudden rush of warmth that came at the thought of her being at his place for the next few days.
He’d had houseguests before. Enjoyed having people around.
He didn’t ever get warm and gooey about it.
What was it about this ex-prisoner barmaid that was making him feel this way?
Maybe the way she was talking about what they’d have for dinner. She had some chicken enchilada meal she’d been planning to make to freeze in portions for herself. He hadn’t planned on having her cook for him. Or care for him.
But seeing the way she seemed to lighten up as she talked about the cooking, he readily agreed. He liked enchiladas. And didn’t get home-cooked meals all that often. Still, she was his guest. Partially because the GGPD had screwed up. No way he should be taking advantage...
And then it dawned on him. Cooking would be something she’d have done as a normal part of her day. And normalcy would help her cope.
The thought made him feel less guilty for letting her do such nice things for him.
And the prospect of home-cooked meals could explain his pleasure at the idea of having her around. If he’d only started being drawn to her after she’d offered to cook for him...
Moving from the kitchen to the dining and living rooms after lunch, they made good progress, talking a little more. About music choices as he straightened a collection of CDs that rivaled his own. His younger siblings bought all their music digitally and had gotten him more into the habit as well, but he still liked having the physical copies on hand. Liked having control of what he owned.
And liked that Everleigh also had an appreciation for country music. They’d even both been to a couple of the same concerts in Detroit and Ann Arbor in recent years.
