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“Sometimes friends hug. Sometimes they pat each other on the back. They might even hold hands.”
“Not me.”
“You need physical affection as much as the next person.”
“Not really.”
“What if you had a boyfriend? You’ve had boyfriends.” The memory of her, a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other, leaning into the space of some tall, blond guy at the Cadillac Bar surfaced. Her smile had never wavered.
“When I was drinking.”
“Ah. But not sober.”
“No. Not sober.”
“Have you given it a chance?” He hadn’t seen her with anyone in recent months, but then their paths rarely crossed in social situations now that neither frequented bars.
“The opportunity hasn’t come up.”
“And then when it did, I was angry, and I scared you.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
She sounded more like herself. Alex stuck his legs out and relaxed against the wall. “Right.”
“Could you please leave me alone?”
Now she sounded tired and sad. This wasn’t at all what he had planned. Food and some light conversation. The getting-to-know-you phase. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
“Please. Some other time.”
“You promise?”
This time she looked at him. “You want there to be another time.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Even though I’m like this.”
“Human?”
“Stone cold frigid.”
Cold didn’t enter into the equation when he thought about Deborah. Only heat. “You may be a lot of things, girl, but that’s not one of them.” This might be his only chance to convince her he was serious. He forced himself to verbalize something even he didn’t understand. “I think of you as thunder and lightning on a dark night. You walk into the room and no matter how dark it is, you light up the place.”
Her cheeks darkened to the color of a dusty pink rose. “Maybe we could—”
The shrill ring of Alex’s cell phone shattered the air. They both jumped. Alex ripped his gaze away from her wet face and tugged the phone from his pocket. “Yeah.”
Cooper’s voice filled his ear, telling him they’d made contact with the foster parents who had taken Nina Chavez into their home for a few short months prior to the disappearance of Clarisse Chavez and her children. “You want in on the interview?”
“Absolutely.” Alex glanced at Deborah. She had her forehead resting on arms crossed over her knees, her long hair cloaking her face. This conversation would have to wait for another time—but soon. “Give me the address. I’ll meet you there.”
He pulled himself up from the floor, again careful not to touch her. At his movement, she shifted. “News on Benny?”
“No. Jane Doe. I have to go.” He stopped at the kitchen counter and scooped up a handful of cookies. He took a bite and tried to smile over the crunch of his teeth against a bricklike nugget. “We need you on both these investigations, Deborah. Don’t mess up again. If you need somebody to talk to, call me, night or day. I promise not to get too close, okay?”
She didn’t answer so he walked to the door for a third time. He picked up the bottle of whiskey and opened the door.
