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“So…he’s not a part of your life?”
“Oh, we keep in touch,” I replied. “He always paid child support and saw me around the holidays, that kind of thing. But my parents knew better than to try to get married because of me. He was a drummer in a band when they met.”
Calvin took in that bit of information without blinking, for which I was grateful. A lot of the guys I’d dated — if they made it far enough to even learn anything about my family — tended to either look creepily knowing when I made that confession, or they seemed almost pitying, like it made sense that the illegitimate daughter of a drummer in a Valley-based hair band would decide to make her living as a psychic.
Ingrid showed up with our food then, and Calvin and I fell into a welcome silence as we started on our meals. It wasn’t that I didn’t like talking to him — the low, smooth sound of his voice was appealing enough without all the fabulousness of the total package — but I wished we could’ve been discussing the case. I might not have been a suspect anymore, and yet it was still something we needed to resolve.
A horrible thought struck me. What if the killing wasn’t entirely personal? What if someone had just decided to start randomly killing witches? If that was really what was going on, maybe I was next.
No, that was silly. I’d slept in the clearing at Chuck’s ranch all night by myself. Everyone knew where I was, so it would have been easy enough to slip over there and bury a knife in my back, or drop a garrote around my throat.
“You look worried,” Calvin remarked, and I looked up from my chicken salad wrap to see him watching me, dark eyes thoughtful.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I was manufacturing worst-case scenarios…like the killer might be after witches in general and not Lilith Black specifically.”
He frowned, a faint worried line appearing in the smooth brown skin between his brows. “Damn. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“It’s probably just me being paranoid.”
“You don’t seem like the paranoid type.”
I actually wasn’t, if only because the information I received from supernatural sources tended to prove that there was no such thing as conspiracy theories, only underlying patterns that were completely natural but which some people interpreted as sinister because they couldn’t see the whole picture.
“I try not to be,” I said lightly, and took a bite of my sandwich. After swallowing, I added, “I suppose I was just trying to make sense of all this. Doug Snyder and Tansy McCall had motive and opportunity, but that still doesn’t feel right.”
Calvin’s face had gone still, and I knew he was worried that I was discussing sensitive information in a public place. Honestly, I hadn’t meant to do that — I’d just been trying to work through the problem out loud, which tended to be a bad habit of mine.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, and set down my sandwich so I could have a bite of salad.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m trying to figure it out, too. Right now, I think the best thing to do is wait and see if my team finds something on Lilith’s laptop or phone.”
It would be nice if they found a smoking gun, the one piece of evidence that would point directly back to the culprit. Unfortunately, I knew the world wasn’t usually that neat.
However, since I also knew that Calvin really didn’t want to keep discussing the case, I only nodded and went back to my lunch. Before too long, we were both done with our meal, and he was laying a couple of twenty-dollar bills down on the tabletop.
“I should be paying,” I told him, feeling guilty. I had no idea how much he made as chief of the San Ramon tribal police, but I doubted it could compare to the inheritance I’d gotten from Lucien Dumond, even if I’d been pretty dedicated to making sure large chunks of that money went to local charities.
“I asked you to lunch,” he replied without hesitation. “Maybe sometime you can make me dinner again.”
“Love to,” I said. “How about tonight?”
The question got me a grin, which I’d hoped it would. “Maybe. Can’t say for sure — I might be putting in some overtime today.”
Right. He was working on an active murder investigation, even if he didn’t want to be openly discussing it at the moment.
I couldn’t help being a little disappointed, though. Still, I managed to smile and say, “Rain check?”
“Absolutely.”
That settled, we got up from our table and headed out, saying a quick goodbye to Ingrid as we went.
“I’ll need to drop you at home,” Calvin said as I buckled my seat belt. “I know you want to help with the case, but if I bring you back to the station, people are going to wonder what’s going on. You’re a big help, but you’re not an official part of the San Ramon tribal police.”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly, even as I told myself that it really was. Calvin’s and my relationship might have taken a quantum leap over the past twenty-four hours, but any help I gave him had to be by necessity strictly unofficial. Never mind any idle fantasies I might have had about becoming the tribal police’s psychic for hire — the San Ramon people had very good reasons for keeping to themselves, and I knew I was already pushing it by becoming involved with one of their own.
Besides, the sign in the shop window at Once in a Blue Moon had said I would open at ten, and here it was almost noon. One could argue that a lot of the stores along Broad Street kept whimsical hours at best, but I didn’t want to come off as a complete flake.
“I need to get back to work anyway,” I added, and Calvin sent me a relieved smile.
