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“If you’ve got a spare key inside,” Beckett said, “give that one to me, andI’llget them cut.”
“Oh. Sure.” She looked more uncomfortable still, but started working the key off the ring.
“If you’d feel better doing it yourself,” he said, “so you know I’m not making multiples and handing them out, no worries.”
“Of course not.” She slapped the key into his palm. “Even if I got them cut, you could do that. I either trust you enough to do all this or I don’t.”
He wanted to say,It’s looking to me like you don’t,but he didn’t. She was a big girl. If she were having second thoughts, she could tell him so. She’d never seemed reticent before.
Since they’d moved in, it had only got worse. She seemed stiff and ill-at-ease, would start to say something, then catch the words back again and again. She made dinner with him, which usually meant that she made dinner and he practically had to grab the knife from her hand to help, talked to the kids about their day, and disappeared into her bedroom by eight every night. He didn’t think she’d even been up the stairs again since she’d helped him haul Troy’s furniture up there. He’d had to fight to get her to take the uphill end and leave him with the heavy part, but that was the last normal moment they’d had, and it was Friday now.
He wanted his managing, self-assured, outspoken judge back. He wanted the argument. He wanted the spark.
He wanted the fire.
* * *
Quinn walkedthrough the front door, set down her bag, and gasped, then staggered through the house following her nose, at least as long as her nose held up.
What had died? What had died and only started smellingnow?It couldn’t be mice in the wall. She refused to believe it was possible, probably because the thought was so horrifying.
Were dead things in the walls covered by homeowner’s insurance?
Most people relaxed on Friday night!
She found the four of them in the kitchen, Beckett looking harassed, Janey arguing, Troy hugging Bacon. And Bacon wriggling out of Troy’s grasp and scampering toward her, wagging his rat-like tail and barking happily.
Oh. My. God.
Troy said, “He didn’tmeanto, Dad!”
“He did too mean to,” Janey said. “He did it on purpose! We both saw it. And Violet is coming over to spend the night! It’s my firsttime,and she’s going to run out of here and tell the wholeteam!It’s so, so disgusting! How do we get itoffhim? I tried washing it off at the tap outside, and it didn’t even help!”
Quinn laughed. She couldn’t help it. She had her hand across her nose and mouth, which was doing just about nothing, and she was laughing anyway. “Let me guess,” she said. “Bacon rolled in something terrible. Out at the park?”
“I only let go of his lead for aminute,”Troy said. “Because he likes to run around and sniff.”
“Yeah, well,” Beckett said, “whatever it was, it was dead. Sorry, Quinn.”
She waved a hand. It wasn’t that helpful either as a gesture or an odor-reducing measure, so she said, “Not a problem. I know the solution. Good thing he doesn’t weigh ninety pounds, I guess.”
Beckett grinned. “I had a feeling you’d know how to cope. I was just looking it up, but …”
Oh. He had food out on the counter. Steak, mushrooms, onions, broccolini. She said, “You started dinner.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You being late is the only way to get ahead of you. We need a head-chef rotation. Does meat absorb corpse odors? I’ll put it back in the fridge and hope for the best. Or maybe set fire to it. American barbecue sauce is rubbish, but if we used enough …”
“Ha,” she said. “Right, then. Go get the bucket from the cleaning closet, Janey. I’ve got hydrogen peroxide in my bathroom. Beckett, find the baking soda in the pantry, and we’ll need dish detergent.”
She started rolling up her sleeves, and Beckett said, “Here’s an alternate plan. You tell me what to do, and then you go change your clothes and wait for me to do it.”
“Can’t,” she said. “We need to use my bathroom, because it’s the only one with a tub, and I have the skills here. Also, my clothes are all machine-washable. It’s a capsule wardrobe.”
“Isthatwhat it is,” he said. Gravely, but there was a smile there trying to get out. “Of course, we could just put him in the shower upstairs.”
“What,” she said, “and have you hold him in there under the spray? Just how wet will we all get while that happens?”
“Why do you have to help at all?” he asked. “I’m offering the question. You could consider it.”
