AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Relentless is good.”
“In her job, it definitely is.” Maura paused, trying to read his face under the glow of the parking lot lights. “Why are you asking about her? Are you wondering if she’s up to the job?”
“Not me. It’s my wife. Julianne has this old-fashioned image of what a homicide detectiveshouldlook like and—”
“Let me guess. It’s not a woman.”
Antrim gave an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, crazy, isn’t it, in this day and age? But Julianne’s scared. She won’t admit it, but on some level she really believes it takes a man to protect a family. Last night I woke up to find her out of bed and watching the street, to see if someone was lurking outside.”
“Well, you can tell Julianne that you and your family couldn’t be in better hands. I mean it.”
He smiled. “Thank you. I will.”
She climbed into her Lexus and had just started the engine when Antrim tapped on her window. She rolled it down.
“You know about the party we’re having after the concert?” he asked.
“There’s a party?”
“Yeah, I was worried you missed my announcement because you got here late tonight. Julianne and I are throwing a party for all the musicians and their guests. A proper cocktail party with enough food to feed the Philharmonic. So bring a guest.”
“That sounds like fun. After this concert, I’m definitely going to need a few cocktails to unwind.”
“Great. See you at rehearsal next week. Assuming I don’t get booted out of the violin section. Oh, and Maura?”
“Yes?”
“You were brilliant tonight. It’s a shame you chose cadavers instead of Chopin.”
She laughed. “That’s for my next lifetime.”
—
Maura was the first toarrive, and now she stood in Angela Rizzoli’s kitchen, sipping a glass of wine and feeling useless as her hostess swooped around the room with the efficiency of a seasoned cook, zipping from refrigerator to sink to the chopping board to the stove, where all four burners were covered with simmering pots. This was the downside of being obsessively punctual; it meant standing in your hostess’s kitchen making small talk, something Maura had never been good at. Luckily, Angela talked enough for both of them.
“Since Frankie moved to D.C. and Vince is stuck out in California, I’ve got no one to cook for anymore,” said Angela. “All those years, all those meals. Christmas and Easter and Thanksgiving, and now it’s just dinner for one. I’m feeling deprived, you know?”
Judging by all the pots simmering on the stove, no one else was going to feel deprived this evening.
“Are you sure I can’t help you?” said Maura. “Maybe wash the lettuce?”
“Oh no, Maura, you don’t need to do a thing. I’ve got it all under control.”
“But you’ve got so much going on here. Give me a job.”
“The sauce. You can stir the marinara sauce. Aprons are in that bottom drawer. I wouldn’t want you to stain your pretty blouse.”
Relieved to finally have a task, however mindless, Maura tied on an apron embroidered withCucina Angelaand gave the marinara a stir.
“You know, I really was hoping he’d come tonight,” said Angela. “Your friend.”
Friend.A euphemism for the man who shared Maura’s bed.
“Daniel wanted to,” said Maura. “But there was a death and he needed to be with their family tonight.”
“I guess it comes with his job, doesn’t it? You never know when people will need you.”
His job.Another euphemism, another way of talking around the uncomfortable reality of Daniel’s calling. Maura said nothing as she stirred the marinara.
