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She shoved away from the table so hard that her chair practically toppled over. Steadying it, she led the way through the living area and to a closed door. She threw it open and motioned him inside.
“This is the guest room,” she said. “Make yourself at home. It has its own bathroom in that corner.” She pointed toward the left, and her hand shook.
She noticed him watching and curled her fingers into a fist.
As they stood in the bedroom, watching each other, her intercom buzzed. She brushed past him, careful not to touch him, and hurried into the living area.
“Hey, Don, what’s up?” she said.
“Pizza delivery,” he said.
“Can you put it on the floor of the elevator and send it up? Tell Gus I paid the tip when I ordered.”
“Will do, Ms. Melbourne.”
“It’s Zoe, Don. How many times do I have to tell you?” she said. But she was smiling, and Spence guessed it was a game she played with the guy.
“Got it, Ms. Melbourne. Two pizzas on their way.”
He disconnected, and Zoe turned around, still smiling. When she saw Spence, her smile fell away. “You heard,” she said. “Dinner’s on the way up.”
“Is that how you usually deal with food deliveries?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Normally I have the delivery guy come up. I know most of them, and I like to say hi. Give them their tip in person.”
“You won’t be doing that until Ethan Davies is in custody,” he said.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I know.”
The elevator dinged, and the door slid open to reveal two pizza boxes on the floor. Spence bent and picked them up, then carried them over to the dining area table.
Zoe slid into her seat and took a sip of wine. “What do you think will happen to Ethan once he’s caught? Will he go back to Middleton?”
“Likely to a different facility. He still needs treatment. Maybe the five years at Middleton helped, but he’s had seven more years to think about you. About how much he wants you. About how you’re supposed to be together. He’ll definitely be examined again by psychologists and psychiatrists, and they’ll draw up a treatment plan.”
Ethan Davies was dangerous to Zoe, and he had to be treated. Zoe’s safety and the safety of the people around her depended on Davies being controlled. Kept away from her. Davies hadn’t deliberately killed Zoe’s father, but that didn’t matter. The man was dead because he wouldn’t hand over his daughter. Ethan had had five years in a psychiatric facility to brood about the wrongs done to him. Another seven years at home for his obsession to build.
A man could stockpile a lot of grievances in twelve years.
When love and hate simmered for that long? They generally exploded as soon as the lid keeping them hidden was removed.
Zoe motioned toward the two pizza boxes. “Let’s eat before they get cold,” she said.
Spence opened one box. Mushrooms, black olives and green peppers. Shuddering at an all-vegetable pizza, he pushed it toward Zoe and opened the other box. Pepperoni. And decent-looking giardiniera. Smiling, realizing he was famished, he took a slice and set it on his plate. Glanced at Zoe’s pizza and shook his head. He took a bite of the pizza and barely resisted moaning.
“Amazing pizza,” he said after he swallowed.
“Best in the city,” Zoe said with a smile. “Julia changed her pizza recipe, and it’s made most of the ‘best pizza in Seattle’ lists.”
“Julia Stewart? Owner of Madeline’s Restaurant? Nico Elliott’s fiancée?”
“That’s her,” Zoe said, taking another bite of her veggie atrocity.
“She makes a hell of a pizza,” Spence said, inhaling the scent of sauce, cheese and pepperoni.
After they’d eaten and cleaned up, Zoe slumped against the counter. “I’m going to bed,” she said. “it’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, it has. For both of us. Just one request -- leave your bedroom door open.”
