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“He’s a surgeon,cherie,” Jo said. “Hands steady as a rock.”
“Ooh.” Emily stared up at him like he was Elsa fromFrozen.
Jo finished cleaning Isabelle’s pumpkin, then passed it over. With deft strokes, Isabelle drew on a cute, funny face and slid it toward Matt.
“Done.” Matt set Emily’s jack-o’-lantern in front of her and picked up Isabelle’s. Jo watched the blade slide around the fine lines; as promised, his hands were steady and sure.
When he finished, the girls ran off to light the pumpkins and put them on the porch.
Sophie watched them go, then turned to Jo. “I owe you an apology.”
Caught off guard, Jo’s tone came out in a squeak. “What for?”
“For calling you up while you were dealing with those murders, complaining about Chelsea. I overreacted right when you didn’t need it.”
Jo shifted in her seat, uncertain how to respond. She didn’t like leaving Sophie with an impression that caused her to doubt her own instincts, especially when it turned out she’d been disturbingly close to the truth. “I’d have been just as worried as you were.”
“No, you wouldn’t have been.” Her hand shot up in the air like a tent revivalist giving testimony. “I actually started to wonder if she was murdering those other women just so David would be worried about someone harmingher. How convoluted is that?”
Jo didn’t think it was a good idea to mention what she’d found out about Chelsea—Sophie was worried enough as things were. She reached for a diplomatic, noncommittal response. “I told you you’d make a good detective. Everyone has to be a suspect.”
“Yes, well. That may be all well and good for a detective, but in real life if you want to avoid going insane, you can’t see murderers behind every tree.” She glanced out of the kitchen toward the stairs, checking to see if anyone was around. “Anyway. We haven’t heard hide nor hair from her in days, not since you brought in that horrible killer. I suppose she really was just stressed about the killings after all.”
Guilt tugged at Jo. Maybe she should tell Sophie about her conversation. It was one thing to play it all down, but another to leave Sophie with a deluded sense of security.
Under the table, Matt reached over and squeezed her hand. Surprised, she looked up at him. She’d told him about it all, including her certainty that the conversation with Chelsea had fallen on deaf ears. He must have read the expression on her face, because he gave a subtle, almost-not-there shake of his head.No.
“And,” Sophie continued, “I’m going to tell David tonight that he should move back in.”
She watched her sister seasoning the cleaned pumpkin seeds with a flush of happiness again on her cheeks, and an invisible hand clenched around Jo’s heart. Matt was right. Sophie deserved a little peace of mind, and if she knew Chelsea was in fact out to capture David, she’d never be able to sleep at night. And, if Chelsea wasn’t calling David, maybe shehadtaken what Jo said to heart—maybe she’d given some thought to what would truly ease her loneliness and realized David wasn’t it. There was no reason to think that wasn’t the case, and no good would come from Sophie obsessing about a problem that might never surface with respect to a woman she had no choice but to interact with.
Jo squeezed Matt’s hand back.You’re right. I’ll let her relax.
Because whatever Chelsea decided to do, Jo would be watching.
* * *
