Chapter 79
Chapter seventy-nine
Christianna
Dinner with the guys has become a nightly ritual the last few days. They show up, and David creates gourmet meals that look effortless for him.
Coulson is still there when they pull up.
We’re standing on the porch, his shoulder braced against the doorway. I give a small wave as the car passes and refocus on him.
“The necropsy didn’t give us much,” he says. “Older animal. Been dead a few days. Nothing conclusive.”
“So maybe nothing,” I say. “Just a coincidence.”
“Could be,” he replies.
He glances down at the folder in his hand. “We pulled the electronics while we were at it.”
Something tightens low in my chest.
“Were you getting calls from an unknown number?”
“Yes,” I say. The word comes out sharper than I intend.
“It shows Rasmussen was blocking his number,” Coulson says. “Calling you several times a day.”
I press my fingers to my lips. “They were breathing calls. I stopped answering after the first few. They were a nuisance. I didn’t think much of them.”
He looks up then. Meets my eyes.
“There’s more,” he says. “He had gambling debts. Someone’s been paying them off. Started a few months back. I’m trying to trace it.”
He closes the folder.
“I finished the perimeter cameras and motion detection,” he adds. “Good thing I did.”
I nod, though I don’t know why.
He steps off the porch, already pulling his phone from his pocket.
It irritates me that I know all of this.
I recognize the irritation for what it is. Something to hold onto instead of Erik and Remy’s question, still unanswered.
My time is probably running short.
Erik is nothing if not direct.
I shake off the unease and turn as David walks up, grocery bag in hand.
“What’s for dinner tonight?”
“Blackened drum, hush puppies, and greens.”
He and James come in through the vestibule.
He must catch my glance past his shoulder. “They caught Coulson on his way out.”
I pretend I don’t notice him also looking over my shoulder.
We head into the kitchen, as has become our custom, and I ask him about the auditions.
“Overall it’s okay,” he answers easily, taking items out of the cloth grocery bag.
James rolls his eyes and winks at me. “He was bitching all the way over here about the lack of discipline…”
“They need a ballet mistress, or similar,” David takes over.
“Madame Geroux is said to live in the area,” James picks up.
“But I don’t know if she wants to be tempted out of retirement,” David continues.
Conversation with one of them is like talking to a person arguing with himself. Both parts come out and never interrupt the other.
I see Meg stiffen as she enters the room and hastily say, “I’ve heard she retired due to an injury and can no longer perform in her previous capacity.”
David shoots me a look. “Where did you hear that?”
James pops an olive into his mouth that his brother set out and mutters, “How was the news kept quiet? I haven’t heard anything.”
I clear my throat. “I worked with her several years back. I think she sent an email.”
David considers. “Can you still get in touch with her?”
“I haven’t spoken with her in years. I wouldn’t even know how to contact her.”
It’s not a lie, I tell myself. I have no idea how to approach the woman who was like a mother to me after not speaking to her for over a year.
When Erik and Remy enter the room, I’m relieved. Erik is carrying Bass, his head buried in his fur, and I melt a little.
He strides straight up to me. “Let’s take the Notes for a walk before dinner.”
“Is Bass going to walk,” I ask dryly, “or will you be carting him around?” My gaze flicks to Remy. “Are you joining us?”
His eyes crinkle in answer, and I feel a small dip in my stomach. The man is lethally good-looking, charming without effort.
I glance at Erik from beneath my lashes. Coldly, symmetrically beautiful. A study in contrasts. And instead of comparing them, I notice how they complement each other.
I file that under reasons I won’t sleep tonight. They are so vexing. I turn and grab their leashes in case we’re walking in the neighborhood and not the yard.
When I return both men are waiting for me at the door.