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“I’m sorry, I thought since she was helping with the bone stuff that you knew she was coming, I?—”
My blood runs cold. Or hot. Can’t tell. “Dr. Chaplin is here?”
“Yes, she’s waiting out?—”
“Send her back,” I say without missing a beat.
Colleen nods. “On it.”
As she leaves, I take a big gulp of air and straighten out my button-down. I’m so nervous, I’m shaking. I haven’t seen her since we were digging through the basement. I thought she was done with me after the way I answered her question.
Guess not.
I watch the door waiting, until the blinking light of the mute button reminds me I was in the middle of something. I hurriedly press the button and bring the phone to my ear. “M-Mr. Wilhelm, I’m sorry, something has come up, but I promise I will call you at a later time, okay?”
“O—”
Constance appears and, as usual, she is a vision in well-pressed black slacks and burgundy blouse, trench coat floating open as she speeds toward me. Her face is tightened with wrinkles, lips pursed urgently. I haven’t seen her looking so stressed… ever. Not even when her bones were missing.
This must be something serious.
“Great, thank you.” I slam the phone down and let out a sigh. Not my best work, being in the midst of an investigation and all.
But some things just can’t wait.
“Is this a bad time?” Constance asks.
I shoot up to my feet. “No! Not at all.”
“Okay, good. Good. I need to talk to you. I may have done something stupid.”
“I highly doubt that’s possible, but…” I trail off. “Chaplin, you’re shaking.”
Constance laughs almost maniacally. Oh no. “Am I?” She holds out her hands. “I guess I am.”
“Here. Sit.” I pull a chair up across from my desk, then take her hand in mine. I have to push every feeling aside to stay focused, but it’s so nice to feel her fingers curl around my hand.
“Thank you,” she mutters as I guide her into the chair.
“Now, tell me. What happened?” I ask softly. “Are you hurt or anything?”
She shakes her head fiercely. “I talked to Fred Frederickson.”
Frowning, I settle back into my seat. “Okay?”
“I told him he’s a fool for demolishing the house.”
This isn’t going the way I thought it was. I thought it might have something to do with the case. If it were anyone else, I’d be telling them this is a waste of my time. But it’s Constance and…
Yeah, I’m down bad.
“And then I… I…” She splats her hands across her face. “I told him I wanted to convince him not to.” Her words are halfway smushed between her fingers, but I get most of it.
“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” I say, leaning on the desk.
Her hands fall back into her lap. “Yes it is!”
“Why?” I ask, holding back a smile.
