Breathing Space (Ellis McFadden Mysteries #1)

Chapter 22

T he first photo was of Andrew’s body on a metal table in a white room, his private bits draped with a sheet. Even with the sheet, it was more than I’d ever wanted to see. I turned away. “Could you find just a close-up of the contusion? Otherwise, I’m going to let you do the viewing.”

“No problem. Give me a moment to scroll through them.”

I stared at the wall and the framed movie poster that hung there. True Grit , the John Wayne version. Seeing that in Frank’s study made perfect sense. He was a man’s man, and the poster fit the Western aesthetic he had going on.

Granted, his study was a bit more high-tech, but that touch of nostalgia tempered it.

“Okay, if you want to see it, I have it up.”

I turned. The photo of Andrew filled the screen. It was a close-up, so all that was visible was from the midline of his eyes to the top of his head. The photo was taken from the side so the contusion was front and center.

I studied the photo, doing my best to see it analytically and not as the dead man it was. I was no great fan of Andrew’s, but this was a terrible end, regardless of my personal feelings for him. “It’s a bruise, all right. Not much of one but enough that you can tell there’s an injury.”

“Someone whacked him good, I’d say.”

I got up and moved around the desk to get a closer look. I tipped my head. There was something about the shape of the bruise.

“What is it?” Frank asked.

“I don’t know, but I feel like I should.” I shook my head. “Can you screenshot this?”

“I’ve screenshotted all of it and put it in the file, which I’ll encrypt. File name is Recipes, by the way.”

Smirking, I turned. “Recipes?”

“I cook. Or I used to. Don’t do a whole lot of that now. Anyway, seemed like a good, neutral file title.”

“Nice to know about the cooking.” I glanced at the photo again but still couldn’t connect whatever pieces my brain was working on. “Is there a toxicology report? If he was poisoned…”

“Right.” The list of files appeared on the screen again. He scrolled down and found one named Toxicology. Frank selected it and opened it. Nothing showed up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said. “The file’s empty, so that report must not have come in yet. I’ll look again tomorrow after work.”

“Okay.” I glanced at the time. “Speaking of, I should go soon. We both have work tomorrow. And I have to call Officer Lu.”

“Right.” Frank got up from his chair. “You’ll let me know how that goes?”

“I will.”

He tapped something, and the screen turned off, then he came around from the desk. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Yes, I do.” He smiled. “I had a nice time tonight.”

I chuckled, thinking about how we’d gone from a romantic dinner to pictures of a dead man. “So did I. Even with the autopsy photos. Seriously, thank you for what you did for me tonight.”

“You’re very welcome.” We left the study. He closed the door and gave Gracie, still on her perch, a pet on the head. “You sure all of this doesn’t change the way you feel about me?”

I knew he meant his money. “I see no reason why it should. You’re still the same guy who came into my library looking for something new to read.”

Amusement brightened his gaze. “I didn’t realize that was your library.”

“Well, now you do.”

He spoke to Gracie. “Back in a few minutes, girl.”

“Bye-bye,” Gracie trilled.

I wiggled my fingers at her. “Bye, Gracie.”

As we walked through the corridors, Frank took my hand. I smiled. It was nice to have that kind of contact with someone again. Ned and I had held hands a lot. I’d forgotten just how sweet it was. How good it felt to be connected to another living human being.

And holding Frank’s hand felt natural. Our hands not only fit well together, the clasp of his hand around mine seemed meant to be. The way his fingers wrapped my smaller hand in his bigger one, the gentleness of the hold, the rough callouses a reminder of the work he did. Even when he didn’t need to.

What an interesting, deeply faceted man he was.

My initial judgment of him had been wrong. He was who I thought he was—a hard-working, blue-collar guy. But he was so much more. I’d be pondering just how much more for days to come, I knew.

A vuum shuttled past, on its way to its next stop.

At my door, he kissed me goodnight. It was a lot like our first kiss but better. We were well and truly in this investigation together now, and that connection carried through. I smiled up at him as it ended.

“Thanks again for tonight. Dinner was fantastic. And afterwards was…” I didn’t know how to describe what he’d done for me. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, right?”

“You bet. I hope you finally get to see Vivak, but I’m not so sure Andrew’s rug is that important anymore.”

“Still be good to suss the man out. Until we know who the poisoner is…”

“I agree.” I squeezed his hand before letting it go and flattening my hand on the printlock. The door whooshed open. “Goodnight, Frank.”

“Night, Els.” With a smile, he turned and sauntered back toward the elevators.

I went inside. It seemed smaller than I remembered after Frank’s quarters. Harry was stretched out on the couch, but his eyes opened when I came in.

“Hi, Mum.”

“Hi, baby. Did you have a nice nap?”

“Yes, but I missed you.”

“Aw, bless your little motorized heart. Well, I’m going to bed, so?—”

He jumped down and ran to the bedroom, making me laugh. “I guess that meets with your approval.”

As I took my makeup off, moisturized, applied eye cream, brushed my teeth, then got into my nightgown, my thoughts went back and forth between Frank’s secret identity and Andrew’s postmortem and autopsy.

I really was fine with Frank’s situation. So what if he was a wealthy man who wanted to be treated like a regular guy and work a job that made him feel useful? He was allowed. In fact, he was to be commended. He could have been living it up, being waited on hand and foot, and downing expensive food and beverages all day.

Instead, he was contributing. How could I fault him for that? How could anyone? I couldn’t. And I wouldn’t. In fact, it made me like him even more. And my liking of him was already pretty high.

As for what I’d learned about Andrew tonight … I didn’t know what to make of it. Had he fought with someone? That bruise on his forehead certainly made it seem that way.

Who would have done that to him? Sarah Fenchurch? She didn’t seem like a fighter, but what did I know? I’d only just met her. I couldn’t recall seeing any bruises on her. None visible, anyway. Didn’t mean there couldn’t have been some under her clothing.

But would Andrew have hit a woman? As much as I hadn’t liked him, he didn’t seem like the type to strike a woman. Yell at her, yes. Lay hands on her, no.

I sighed as I got into bed, still rubbing lotion into my hands, cuticles, and up my arms. Harry was sitting on the other side, licking his back foot. If Andrew hadn’t been in an altercation with Sarah, then who?

Scotty? Vivak? Someone we had yet to clue in on?

Maybe Frank would be able to opine on Vivak tomorrow, but more and more I felt like this was not about that incredibly beautiful, wickedly expensive rug. Yes, it could have been a motivation, but would someone on this starliner really have killed Andrew for it?

If so, what was the end game? How would they have gotten the rug unless Andrew had left it to them? And if that was true, how would they know what his will said?

I was stumped.

With the last of the lotion massaged in, I picked up my tablet and opened my book. We hadn’t talked about The Duke’s Wicked Wish this evening, but at some point, it would come up again. I needed to finish it.

I read the same sentence three times before I accepted that my head was too full of other thoughts to concentrate. “Okay, come on. You need to get this book read.”

Harry stopped cleaning himself and came up to lie against my hip. I stroked his head, which started him purring. “You’re a sweet boy, Harry.”

He snuggled in closer. “Yeah, I am.”

I snorted. He really was good company. I went back to my book and made a concentrated effort to read at least one chapter. I did, then found I was so into the book I read another one. It was impossible not to think about Frank’s reaction to some of the scenes.

He was a real trooper for reading it. Maybe he should pick the next book that we’d both read.

I looked at Harry. “Is that what Frank and I are doing now? Reading the same books so we can discuss them? While also trying to solve this murder? It’s like … we’re a couple. How did that happen? I didn’t mean for it to happen. Did he?”

Harry’s head lolled back so he could look at me, albeit upside down, but it was still eye contact. “Frank likes you.”

“And I like him.”

“But he likes you a lot.”

I frowned at his furry face. “How do you know that?”

“His pulse goes up when he’s around you.” Harry shifted so that one of his legs was over top of my hip.

“You can sense that sort of thing, can you?” I found that curious. Not impossible to believe. Just curious.

“Mm-hmm.” He closed his eyes again.

“Well.” I smiled. I hadn’t expected Harry to be so astute. Did Frank know about his extra-special capabilities? He must. He’d helped design and create the companion droids. Maybe he just hadn’t counted on Harry sharing such things.

Either way, it was kind of sweet to know Frank’s feelings were true. Not that I’d doubted them.

Was I ready for a relationship? A couple of days ago, I would have said no. I just hadn’t been interested.

Now, with Frank in my sights, my feelings had definitely begun to change. At the very least, I was enjoying our new friendship.

Where things went remained to be seen.