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“Ugh.”
He shoved it in his mouth, his right cheek bulging as he closed his eyes and clutched his chest. “Paradise,” he said through a full mouth. After he chewed and swallowed, he sipped his sweet tea. “But for real. While you were having a sleepover with John—”
“There was no sleeping over. I stayed at my town house. He stayed at his home. I never even saw his place.”
“You like him. K-i-s-s-i-n-g.” His shoulders moved up and down in rotation with each letter he sang out.
She tossed the lemon wedge she’d yanked from her water into his face. “I do not.” But that wasn’t true. She did like him. Quite a lot.
“It’s cool to like someone, Violet. He’s stand-up. You should go for it. He’s into you.”
“How would you even know?”
“I’m a federal agent.”
That made her laugh.
His eyes grew big. “Look at that. She laughs. And at my expense. You’re more tolerable these past few days. I think it’s him. Bringing out the chill pill in you.”
“Nobody says that anymore.” But he might be right.
Ty pushed his plate aside and wadded up his napkin. “I’m a dude. I date a lot. I know.”
“Why don’t you ever get serious with anyone?” she asked and pulled a piece off her crusty French bread, dipping it in the honey butter. Bread was her one indulgence, and one didn’t eat bread without butter.
“I was. Once. I was gonna get married.”
Violet paused with the bread halfway to her mouth. “You lie.”
“I’m not lying. I fell in love, but she...she married someone else and that was that. I’ll never ever fall in love again. Or get married.” His eyes started to shine, and he blinked, sniffed. “Now, let’s split a sundae, and I’ll even give you the cherry on top.”
He kinda already had. This explained a great deal of his infantile behavior. “Does Asa know this?”
“Nobody knows. Just you and me. Our little secret.” He leaned back, arms over his chest. “Why aren’t you serious or married or with a partner?”
“Because I’m a potential serial killer, and I can’t be sure anyone close is ever safe.” She held his gaze. She’d never voiced that fear. That she could be a killer. That she had some same tendencies.
Finally he shook his head. “I get dead serious, and you throw that ridiculousness at me? I thought we had something going here.” He stood and tossed a twenty on the table. “Come on.”
But he didn’t know what she’d done.
One push was all it had taken.
She followed him through the cramped diner as the front door opened and Wanda Boyd entered with a woman who looked a lot like her only in her mid to late fifties. Striking, with a little too much eyeliner. Wanda waved to a server and ignored them as she made her way to the woman.
The other woman held open the door, and as she stretched her arm across the glass to give them plenty of space, Violet caught a glimpse of her wrist.
The room tilted and Violet’s breath caught.
Under the sleeve of her leather coat was a puckered burn and tiny branches shooting upward on her arm.
No. This couldn’t be right. She met the woman’s eyes as they stood gawking at one another.
“How did you get that brand?” Violet asked, ignoring Ty looming behind her.
The woman retracted her hand from the door, and the brand disappeared under the leather sleeve. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. I saw it. You know I saw it.” She grabbed the woman’s hand without thinking to see the mark more clearly.
