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Jack took out his notebook and started writing.
“The needle mark was on the right upper shoulder and slanted outward,” I said. “The trajectory makes the attacker right-handed. There was also considerable bruising to the muscle, so he jammed the needle in quick and hard.”
“I went to his house earlier,” Jack said. “No signs of a struggle or forced entry. Nothing out of place. He lived simply and frugally. The bed was made. Old coffee sat in the pot. There were two cups in the drain pan, both of them already washed. We found a few stray fingerprints, but I don’t think they’re going to belong to our suspects. Only sign of struggle was less than a thimbleful of blood in the dirt behind the house.”
“So what did you see that’s not on the surface?” I asked.
“I want to take another look at it anyway. Want to come along?”
“It beats the hell out of staying here.” I grabbed my coat and buttoned it up tight over my sweater and jeans. Jack didn’t say anything when I got my Beretta out of the drawer and slipped it in my pocket, but I knew he’d noticed. The man noticed every damned thing.
“I was wondering how long it’d take you before you changed your mind about staying here,” he said, putting his hand on my lower back to lead me out the door. I knew what he was doing. Little touches here and there to get me used to him. Like I was a stray dog or something. I hated to admit that it was working. The sickness didn’t come like it had with Vaughn, but I had something other than nausea to worry about now. I walked quickly to the passenger side of his cruiser and got in.
“I could live here if I really wanted to,” I said. “But the more I think about it, living in the funeral home doesn’t really fit my new image.”
“What new image?”
“My bad girl image.” I buckled my seatbelt and could practically feel Jack roll his eyes. “I’ve decided since everyone’s already made up their mind about me that I should live up to their expectations. Maybe I’ll dye my hair crazy colors and wear black lipstick.”
“Yes, I’m sure that will scandalize the whole town.”
“Well, I could come up with something. It might draw in some business.”
“So your goal is to shock people into keeling over with a heart attack? That doesn’t sound like a good business model to me.”
“Shut up,” I said, lips twitching.
“Why don’t you sell the cabin? The cash would give you some breathing room while you decided what to do.”
I’d already thought of that, but that was before I’d found one of my parents’ hidey-holes and the boxes of papers and records the FBI never discovered when they’d raided the property after my parents’ death. There was no way in hell I was going to sell a property that had a million dollars hidden somewhere on the premises. The only problem was I couldn’t find it. The clues had been vague at best.
“I’ve thought about it,” was all I said in response. “I think I might stay at the B&B for a couple of days. The heater isn’t working right at the funeral home,” I lied. “I’ll never get to sleep if I’m freezing to death.”
“You’ll also never get to sleep with the rats and that clingy scent of death that is soaked into the walls. Living at a funeral home is creepy. At least you’ve come to your senses. I wasn’t looking forward to it.”
“I thought you said the exterminator took care of the rats?”
“You know they never get them all. I say we let the rats have the third floor all to themselves. And since you’re in such a sensible mood, I’m sure you’ll be much more agreeable when I suggest you stay with me instead of paying for a room at the B&B. You know Wanda will snoop through your things while you’re gone. She has a duty to report the goings-on of the people she boards when she gets her hair rolled every Thursday at Betty’s Beauty Parlor.”
“Jack—” I said, shaking my head.
“Don’t argue, Jaye. I’m way more stubborn than you are. You’ll have practically the whole second floor to yourself. And before you say it, I don’t care that everyone in town will be talking. They’re talking anyway. I say let them.”
I hadn’t thought about gossip in that area. Me living with Jack, even on a temporary basis, would have tongues wagging. But he was right. They could talk if they wanted. Nothing I could do would stop them.
“Geez, Jack. I guess you feel pretty strongly about the whole thing. I guess I should just say thanks and be grateful.”
“You’re a perverse creature, Doctor Graves. I don’t know why I like you.”
“I can think of a million reasons. One is because I never told your mother when you got that tattoo. And another is because I never told Mandy Howe that you broke your date with her to watch game seven of the World Series with me.”
“It was a good game,” he said soberly. “And if you think you’re going to blackmail me by telling my mom about that tattoo then you can think again. I’m not scared of her.”
“Sure you’re not. And the tattoo is in such an interesting place,” I said, fluttering my lashes.
His hands tightened on the wheel as we wound our way through the mostly empty streets into King George Proper. “If you get me in trouble, just know I’m bringing you down with me. You’ll have to admit to my mom that you’ve seen me naked if you squeal about the tattoo. She’s probably going to have a lot of questions about that if I know her.”
Oh, boy, had I seen Jack naked. It wasn’t something I was likely to forget. I’d officially lost this round since anything else I said would only get me deeper into trouble. The sexual tension in the car notched up to where I had to reach over and shut off the heater for the first time in as long as I could remember. I ignored Jack’s chuckle of triumph and tried to think aboutanythingbesides tattoos and nakedness.
