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“Er…” My mind spins and swirls. Around and around. “Okay?”
“She choked on a hotdog in the stands with her lover sitting right beside her.”
“Oh my god.”
“Died with a wiener in her throat.” His entire frame quivers as he giggles. “I swear I didn’t wish it upon her. I definitely didn’t get specific with the Lord when I mentioned the misery that was my marriage. But that doesn’t mean I don’t smile when I think about it.”
“That’s horrible!” I burst out laughing. “She was unfaithful to your marriage, and she died deep-throating a hotdog?”
“You see the humor,” he sniggers. “Now I live my life on my terms, with the people I wish to spend it with. And no, I never had children. But I have you.” Reaching around and pulling me into a startling hug, Steve makes my heart melt and my stomach churn. “I have Josie and her little boy in 3A. I have Rodrigo in 2B.”
“And you eat dinner with the sweet Mrs. Mayweather in 3B.” Pulling back, I catch his droopy eyes, and smile. “You’re happy?”
He takes the hat from my hands and carefully slides it onto my head. It’ll frizz my hair and annoy me later, but right now, right in this moment, I accept his gift with pleasure.
“I’m happy, Ms. Mayet. And no matter how grown you think you are, I’m gonna keep an eye on my baby chicks when they’re not home at night. It’s the right thing to do. Now come on.” He pushes up to stand with a groan and crackle of his bones, then he reaches around and takes my hands. “Stay warm. Eat something. Then go to work.”
“Thank you for the hat.” Reaching up, I tap the knitted pattern and plan my next steps of the morning. “Be sure to keep an extra eye on Josie this week, okay? I can’t tell you anything about my work, but I’m sure you’ve seen the news. She’s a young mom, and she’s got a little boy to take care of.”
Steve lowers his head in a nod of acknowledgment. “I’m on the case.”
“Good work. Now go back to your apartment and stay warm.” I cross the space again and crack open the glass door. “I’ll be back later.”
“Minka?” He takes a step forward. “Before you go…”
“Yeah?” I stop on the threshold and turn back to face my sweet landlord. “What’s up?”
“You’re the coroner, right? Your lease application mentions your job, and it says you work at the George Stanley. You deal with dead people, yeah?”
“Uh huh.” I drop my hands into my pockets and look the man up and down. The day he ends up on my table might be the day my heart breaks. “What about it?”
“Have you ever had someone choke to death on a hotdog?”
“Oh my god!” I throw my hands up and spin out of the building. “Don’t laugh too much, Old Man. Karma might slap you for it.”
“I didn’t buy her the hotdog!” he calls through the closing door. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Horrible.”
Yet, I snicker and move along the already-bustling sidewalk, only to stop twenty feet from my door and face another.
Taking out my new keys with hands that sweat from nerves, I insert one into the lock and feel my pulse pick up speed when the chamber clicks over and the door opens.
I look left. Then right.
Why does it feel like I’m breaking in?
Pocketing the keys again, I step across the threshold into the relative darkness of Tim’s bar and turn back to shut the door. I flip the lock and draw in a deep lungful of air. Because it doesn’t smell like a dirty old bar in here. It smells like fresh coffee and a man whose aftershave makes my toes curl.
Turning, I prepare to cross the room and go in search of the coffee I already smell, but when I meet a pair of intense eyes buried deep under a dark brim of a hat, I jump back with a scream and crash against the wooden door.
“What the—” I slam my hand to my chest as my brain catches up to my surroundings. “Tim!”
Then I look down his body, past his bare abdomen and over his plaid pyjama pants. I stop on his muscular right arm, and in his hand, a gun.
Agun!
“What the hell are you doing?” I demand.
