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“Because he wants me over for dinner. I’m supposed to give him a tour of his own house! Not to mention it’s a total conflict of interest since I’m involved with the case and?—”
I wave my hand at her.No sweat. “Fredericksons aren’t suspects.”
“And what if you think I’m incriminating myself further by involving myself with?—”
“Chaplin, you know I don’t think that you’re involved anymore.”
Constance seals her lips together. Her blue eyes are wide and… she looks so little. So young. I see the girl that feels at fault for her mother’s death. I want to wrap my arms around her and comfort her. I’m afraid though that’s not only not my place, but also that I wouldn’t bring her comfort at all.
“I think that’s great. That you’re doing this,” I add.
“I think I have to cancel,” she says.
I balk. “Why?!”
“Because I know I’ll clam up. I’ll walk into the lion’s den and lose all my… chutzpah.”
I chuckle. “Not gonna happen.”
“How do you know that?” she asks.
“Because not many women have the confidence to force themselves into a crime scene in order to investigate bones. You’ll be fine,” I say. “I’m sure of it.”
Constance shakes her head. “That’s completely different.”
“How?”
She huffs. “I’m not usually having to argue cases. I’m not a lawyer, I’m an archaeologist, and debatably a historian, depending on who you talk to.”
“You’re a doctor. That counts for something.”
Constance sighs. “Not everyone would say the same. But thank you.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. I might not have the same stake in it she does, but I don’t want to see the property torn to bits just to suit the Fredericksons’ compound. It might be pushing some boundaries, but Fred and Donna liked me well enough. Maybe… “What if I came with you?”
Constance’s eyes grow even wider, if that were possible. “Like a date?”
“Uh, well, sure, like I’d be your date for that event,” I say, trying to clarify as much as possible. “I don’t mean in a romantic sense, necessarily, but?—”
“You’d really do that?”
I swallow. So much for keeping my cards close to my chest. “Would that help?”
Constance drums her fingers on the arms of her chairs. “I mean to know someone is there on my side, presuming youareon my side?—”
“Of course I am.”
Her eyes pinch at the corners and she cracks one of her enigmatic smiles. “You wouldn’t have said that a few days ago.”
“I’m a man capable of change, what can I say?”
Constance hesitates. “I don’t know if I can ask for another spot at dinner. Maybe you can drop by! Out of the blue! And then it will be like an accident.”
“Not a bad idea. I doubt Donna Frederickson would turn me away…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I rake my fingers through my hair, lean back. “Nothing.”
