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“Exton’s digging into him and doing his thing.”
Livy’s face twists in confusion. “Why?”
“To pull the threads we can’t.”
“I guess I’m asking what Exton does that he can pull threads.”
It’s Pop who replies. “His last career was military interrogation and counter-interrogation. He specializes in body language consulting and is fluent in several languages. He started his own consulting firm at the beginning of the year after leaving the FBI.”
Livy’s mouth hangs open, and just because it’ll make me smile, I use a finger to lift her jaw to close it.
Comical.
“Exton has that effect on people,” I add dryly.
“Is anyone in this family average?” Livy pops off.
“Just me,” Pop says, pushing up from his chair.
“Hardly,” I say into my mug, and I see Pop’s eyes crease at the corners.
After he’s gone, I rub my palm up Livy’s leg to the knee, careful to avoid the bandaged section. “What’s your gut say about the intruder?”
She releases a deep sigh. “My gut? It’s over. My head? It’s too coincidental with all the other stuff going on in our lives.”
I nod. “Do you want me to ask Elias to see what he can do?”
“In what capacity?”
“You could sue the estate.”
She shakes her head adamantly. “No. I can’t identify him, for one. Second, he has a family. Whoever they are, they lost someone and the last thing I want is this time to be more contentious with a lawsuit. Besides, I don’t want his money.”
“What if he’s a millionaire?”
“Millionaires don’t float up on the beach with a driver’s license in their pockets.”
She’s right about that. Millionaires typically aren’t random intruders. “I wonder if he was high.”
“Maybe. But if he’s dead, he’s dead to me too. Aside from this scar—” She looks to Kyle who lies on his back with his front paws over his head and his back legs extended. “And that one… he doesn’t exist.”
I lean over, feeling the pull in my lower back. “Small, mighty, and brave.” I kiss her chastely and rub a hand over the apple of her cheek.
She smiles under my lips. “Seeing me through your eyes is a gift.”
“Happy to give it to you, Pix.”
“I don’t know if you’re up for it, but I’d like to get you in the pool today. Can we go to your house?”
Internally, I cringe, but I school my face to look as calm as I can fake. “Let me see if I can get us a ride. And I need to check on this.” I tap her leg. “We’ve got to protect this wound. I’m guessing submersion isn’t the best thing for it?”
“Probably not. Think we can protect it well enough?”
Me:If a client had to go into salt water after a tattoo, how well would your goop and wrap work to protect it?
Willa:I wouldn’t recommend it, but if it were me and I had a chance to go to the beach, I think a good layer of ointment and Saran wrap with medical grade tape might protect as much as anything.
Willa:Are you going to the beach? It’s hot as hell, and I can’t take any more heat, but I’d kill to hear the waves.
