“Good. Me, too. Let’s eat a whole bunch of brownies.”
“I want to go down there,” Abra said as they walked to the door. “But I’m afraid I’ll just make it harder for him. And I want to go hunt down Heather and give her one good bitch slap, and that would only make me feel crappy after.”
“Yeah, but it’d feel good doing it.”
“It really would.” Leaving her bag by the door, Abra walked straight to the kitchen, pulled the clear wrap off a plate of brownies.
“What if I bitch-slapped her and you just watched?” At home, Maureen grabbed napkins while Abra put on the kettle. “Would you still feel crappy?”
“Probably.” Abra grabbed a brownie, bit in while she gestured with her free hand. “She thinks I’m lying about being with Eli when Duncan was killed. She had that ‘You poor, deluded thing, I’m worried about you’ look on her face.”
“I hate that look.” In solidarity, Maureen bit into her own brownie. “It’s superior, fake and infuriating.”
“If she thinks I’m lying, maybe the police do, too. That worries me a lot more.”
“They’ve got no reason to think you’re lying.”
“I’m sleeping with him.”
“You weren’t when this happened.”
“I am now.” She took another bite of brownie before dealing with the tea. “I like sleeping with him.”
“I suspected that was why you’re doing so much of it.”
“He’s good in bed.”
“You’re bordering on bragging, but under the circumstances, continue.”
With a half laugh, Abra moved her vase of baby iris from the center of her kitchen table to the stone-colored counter, then set down the teacups. “It’s really great sex.”
“Unsubstantiated. Provide an example.”
“We moved the bed.”
“People often move beds, couches, tables. It’s called rearranging the furniture.”
“While we were in it, having sex.”
“That can happen.”
Abra shook her head, got up for a pen. “Here’s the bed,” she said as she sketched. “Against this wall—the first time we had sex. And when we finished having sex, the bed was over here.” She drew a line, curved it, sketched in the bed. “From there, to there, and turned sideways.”
Munching brownie, Maureen studied the napkin. “You’re making that up.”
With a grin, Abra swiped a finger over her heart.
“Is it on wheels?”
“No, it’s not on wheels. The power of repressed sexual energy unleashed is an awesome thing.”
“Now I’m jealous, but I can flip that by knowing, without doubt, Heather has never moved the bed.”
“I’ll tell you what really pissed me off. Her acting like I’m as reckless as one of those women who write to serial killers in prison. The ones who fall in love with some guy who strangled six women with shoelaces. I don’t know how Eli deals with it, I swear, how he deals with that cloud of suspicion constantly over his head.”
“It must be easier for him now, having you.”
“I hope so.” Abra breathed again. “I hope so. I have feelings for him.”
“Are you in love with him?” Abruptly concerned, Maureen licked chocolate from her thumb. “It’s only been a few weeks, Abra.”
“I’m not saying I’m in love with him. I’m not saying I’m not. I’m saying I have feelings for him. I had them the first time I met him, though I think that was mostly sympathy. He looked so wrecked, so tired, so sad—and with this awful anger under it that must be terrible to hold in, day after day. And as I’ve gotten to know him, there’s still sympathy, but there’s respect, too. It takes a lot of courage, a lot of spine to get through what he’s been through. There’s attraction, obviously, and affection.”
“I felt like he relaxed and enjoyed himself the night we hung out at the pub.”
“He needs people, and I think even with his family, he’s felt alone for a long time.” Being alone was, in Abra’s opinion, sporadically necessary for recharging self. Being lonely was a state she pitied, and wanted to fix. “I’ve watched him relaxing and enjoying a little bit more all the time. He’s got humor and a really good heart. I’m worried about him now.”
“Why do you think all those cops are at Bluff House?”
“If Heather wasn’t exaggerating, I think they must’ve gotten a search warrant. I told you before that Detective Wolfe is convinced Eli killed Lindsay. He’s obsessed with proving it. And now with proving he killed again.”