AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Thanks,” Doug gruffed, but if Fleet figured he would hear something between the two that told the story of their attraction to each other that he could pass on to Talia, he was sadly mistaken. Other than their interest in the history of the region, Fleet couldn’t see a thing the big, gruff man and the meek, diminutive fairy had in common, and Doug had now chosen to clam up.
The eighth of a mile home actually seemed pretty damned long.
* * *
A smile grew slowlyon the observer’s face.Yes.Another possible target.
The shadowy figure followed the small group, taking a snap of the little blonde woman. She was clearly the lady-cop’s sister, and someone much more vulnerable than the others on the list of possibilities. But what could be accomplished with her death or kidnapping? Not living in town, she was one step too far removed from the aberration of the blonde cop and Eggers. There would have to be some thoughtful consideration given to that before a move was made in her direction.
Slinking off, there was still satisfaction in what had been uncovered. It felt good to have five possible victims—Eggers, his parents, Talia, her sister—rather than just two.
* * *
When his phonerang somewhere in the kitchen, Fleet was so deep into his future session-scheduling that he was arranging on his laptop, he almost didn’t hear it.
“Shall I get that?” Pixie called out, which snapped him to attention.
“Sure,” he mumbled, changing up his client slots for the fifth time to fit a couple solo acts in before he made room for a few more challenging groups. Of course this was all speculative, anyway, forwhenhe was finally cleared to go back to his studio.
Listening in, there was no mistaking the change in Pixie’s tone as she attempted to placate whoever was on the other end of the line.
“He’s only been on for twenty-one minutes. I’ve been keeping track, and I was just about to tell him his time was up.”
Right.It could only be Talia taking her sister to task.
“Pixie, bring me the phone please,” Fleet requested. He closed down his program and sighed. Talia must have some kind of radar. He’d just been at the crux of figuring out his upcoming calendar, dammit.
“She’s not happy,” Pixie said, whispering as she held the phone to her chest so Talia wouldn’t hear. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need to be sorry,” Fleet told her. “This isn’t your fault, it’s mine.” The other two times he’d been on the computer that day, he’d watched his time carefully and shut things down, knowing Pixie wouldn’t dare tell him what to do. He’d blown it this time, however, and he’d take the heat. He held his hand out for his phone, which she readily gave over.
“Hey Talia,” he said cheerfully.
“Don’t ‘hey Talia’ me,” his intrepid girl replied. “I was just told you’ve been on your computer for a minute longer than you’re authorized. If you can’t follow the rules, I’ll have to take it away from you.”
Fleet just chuckled.Yup.Talia was a ball-buster, but one he adored. And when he was well again, he’d give her a good run for her money. He loved a strong woman; a challenge, but he was no pushover. Neither of them were.
And now that she knew why he’d been so fucked up about moving forward with their relationship—affected by past injustices—she’d basically told him to stuff it because she didn’t give a damn about some present-day asshole’s agenda. She’d assured him that she could take care of herself, and with those assertions, Fleet certainly felt more comfortable thinking of them in terms of having a future.
“My laptop is closed for the duration of the day,” he told her. “And I haven’t had a headache since before my walk this morning. So, Florence Nightengale, it seems my extra minute of CRT time hasn’t set me back.”
“Fresh,” she said, but he could hear the humor in her voice. “I wasn’t actually calling to check on you, I was calling to see what Pixie might want for dinner tonight. I already have your veggies in the cart.”
“You know I won’t mind watching you eat anything if it’s cooked. Just no raw stuff, okay?”
“Yumm,” Talia replied. “Oysters on the half shell with a bunch of lemon, a little tabasco. They slide right down so sweetly…”
Fleet mimicked a gag. “No thank you,” he reiterated.
“Just teasing. Ask Pix what she’s in the mood for,” Talia told him.
“Pixie?” he called out. “Talia wants to know what shellfish you’d like for supper? But not oysters,” he added.
“Anything is good,” she answered agreeably after coming up behind the sofa where he sat.
Fleet turned back to the phone. “Did you get that?”
“I did. And tell her thanks a lot. I wanted something definitive.” She huffed. “I had a feeling I wouldn’t get a direct answer, though.”
