twenty

“Nothing,” I responded, trying to keep anger out of my voice. I didn’t stand but leaned back in my chair to get farther away from him, not attempting to hide my scowl. Pluckie, at my side, must have read my change in mood since she sat up and looked at me, head cocked. “I’m not hiding anything. And I don’t like your accusation. Why would you ask me something like that?”

Even as I said it, my mind scrambled. Was there something I knew that would lead to evidence against my good friend? Not that I could think of.

The fact that she happened to have walked toward the park where Lou was found dead a while later didn’t mean Gemma had killed him.

And surely Justin didn’t know about Gemma’s walk—or my knowledge of it.

So where had his allegation come from?

“To see your reaction,” he responded a bit too mildly. I didn’t believe him.

“Did your colleague Detective Choye point a finger at me? I answered his questions. They were strange, anyway. He mostly asked me whether I believed anything Frank Shoreston said.”

Which might be the answer. I was somewhat equivocal in my response but it had mostly been negative.

“No. He gave me his report on your conversation and it sounded reasonable. But I’ll admit I’m getting frustrated. I know Gemma is your good friend. I also know Lou and she had talked to one another a lot in the short time since she’d gotten here. Maybe there was even mutual attraction there.” When I opened my mouth to comment, Justin held up his hand. “Or not. In any event, there was apparently some ill will between them when he was killed.”

“Arguing with someone isn’t proof of murdering them,” I said.

“No, but it could be a factor. A motive. Now, can we change the subject?”

“You brought it up,” I retorted. “And since you did, I’d like to know more about what Detective Choye said. Has he spoken with Frank?”

“This isn’t something I want you to repeat, but a lot of people are aware of it anyway.” Justin leaned back, too, his arms folded. “Frank has come to our department several times. He claims he is worried since the p.a. director had expressed an interest in Gemma, and then he was killed. Everyone knows, Frank says, that he and Gemma had been an item. He’s worried that something will happen to him, too.”

“That’s bull pucky,” I said. “Who does he suspect? Stuart Chanick? Gemma herself? I’d be more likely to bet on Frank being the killer.”

“Don’t worry, we’re considering that possibility, too.” Justin shifted again, this time leaning toward me. His expression now appeared softer. Apologetic? If so, he didn’t say it aloud—not exactly. “Like I said, Rory, I wanted to see your reaction. You’ve known both Gemma and Frank for a while, longer than any of us around here. It isn’t evidence, of course, but I’ll keep in mind that you’re more inclined to believe Frank could have killed Lou Landorf than Gemma.”

“You’re damned right.” Now my arms were crossed.

But Justin stood. “Have you finished eating? If so, I’d like to give you a tour of my house.”

Talk about changing the subject quickly. I considered just telling him no, saying that Pluckie and I had to get back to the B&B right away since we had to get up early the next morning, whatever.

Instead I rose without saying anything. He gestured for me to head toward the kitchen doorway, and I complied. Then he led me down the hall, followed by both dogs.

Justin’s home was larger than it had appeared from the outside since it extended farther back on its lot than had been evident. It had three bedrooms, one clearly used as an office and another containing a large bed and other furnishings delineating it as the master bedroom. Its decor was plain and masculine, with a dark comforter and matching pillow shams on the bed and a huge TV hung on the wall. The third was apparently a guest room.

I wouldn’t say that Justin was a great decorator, nor had he appeared to have hired a designer. But the place was pleasant and relatively neat … and I wondered why he had wanted to show it to me.

To end our sort-of disagreement?

Or because he was hoping, as we got to his room, I’d grab his hand and lead him to the bed?

Were there superstitions relating to that—a guest seducing a homeowner? A woman versus a man? I didn’t know offhand, but the thought of crossing my fingers to try to make sure I didn’t somehow invoke bad luck passed through my mind.

Plus, I did consider quickly what it might be like to make love with this man. But it wasn’t going to happen this night, if ever. Not after the somewhat adversarial exchange we’d just had.

And so, I didn’t have to apologize mentally to Warren—other than for having the thought cross my mind. Even at that, I’d already somewhat acknowledged to myself that I was approaching some degree of closure in my loss of him.

“What do you think?” Justin asked as he led me through a back door into a garden. It mostly contained a lawn surrounded by low bushes, all wrapped behind a tall, natural wooden fence—again, nice and masculine and not particularly decorative.

“I like it,” I said, meaning it.

Night had pretty well fallen, and there was just a dim light projected from some lamps attached to the house. The air was cool, and I caught a faint floral scent from somewhere nearby without seeing any flowers.

Pluckie and Killer explored the yard, perhaps with a goal of elimination in mind. Justin and I stood on a small paved patio near the door, watching them. At first.

I turned to my host. “How long have you lived here?” I asked.

“Around two years, since about a month after I moved to Destiny to become the police chief. I was lucky to find this place not long after I arrived.”

“That’s for sure.”

“Why? Are you starting to look for a place to live?”

I felt my face redden a little. “You know I haven’t decided how long I’ll be staying.”

“No, but I’ve got a feeling you’re putting down some roots. I know Martha’s hopeful you’ll be around for a long time. I’ve talked to her about it.”

I already knew Justin was like a son to her. His enthusiasm and perseverance were definitely factors in my agreeing to stay here to help her out after Pluckie discovered her when she was ill.

Sure, I had been considering finding someplace to live other than the B&B. But I wasn’t ready to admit that to anyone else except maybe Gemma, but especially not Justin.

“I’ve got a lot to consider,” I equivocated.

“Like the superstitions involved about moving? I was fed a lot of them around here when I found this house, but the ones I learned are more about what to do as you move in to make sure you stay lucky. None involved whether or not to move from another place. I’d already made my decision about that.”

Maybe I should ask my new superstition guru Gemma about the pros and cons of me deciding to stay here. I felt sure she’d try to convince me it was lucky, as long as she, too, chose to move to Destiny for good.

On the other hand, maybe she was ready to flee by now, considering everything that had happened. If she could. She was, after all, a possible murder suspect.

“I do like your home,” I said. “But even if I decide to stay here and find a place to live, I doubt I’d be able to afford this neighborhood. An apartment that accepts dogs should be fine, right, Pluckie?” I bent to pat my little friend, who’d returned to stand at my feet. Her wagging tail suggested she agreed. Or maybe she was just reacting to the fact I was talking to her.

Killer, too, had returned to be with the humans. He stood beside Justin but was watching Pluckie.

“This isn’t that expensive of an area,” Justin said. “An apartment, condo, or house—it’s your choice, of course. But you’ll make someone very happy when you make that decision and settle in here.”

“Martha’s a very sweet person,” I said, turning to smile up at Justin under the patio light.

“She is,” he replied. “But I wasn’t talking about her.”

He reached over and took me into his arms before I could react—positively or negatively. It clearly was the former, though, as I put my arms around him, too.

At first our kiss was inquisitive, as if we were trying to decide whether it was a good idea here and now. But the longer I stayed in his arms, his lips on mine, and mine reciprocating, I didn’t have any questions about appropriateness any longer.

It felt good. And right.

And unnerving. But even recognizing that didn’t make me pull away.

His body was strong and hard against mine. I tossed out of my brain any comparisons with Warren’s physique. He was gone. I was here. And I was very glad to be here.

After a very pleasant while, I pulled away. Smiling up at Justin, I said, “You do have an excellent way of trying to convince someone to stay in your adoptive town.”

He laughed. “Yeah, it’s how I work on all women I think will be an asset to this place—not.” He didn’t release me entirely but led me back into the house. “Now, if you’ve any interest in me trying even more to convince you, this wouldn’t be a bad time.” He aimed a very sexy and suggestive look in my direction.

“Rain check,” I said, “even though the weather in Destiny seems quite nice.” That way, I wasn’t saying no exactly, but despite my interest and definite enjoyment, sharing a kiss was a lot easier to justify in my mind than anything more.

For now.

I insisted on helping him clear the table, although he said he’d be glad to take care of putting our plates into the dishwasher. He soon walked Pluckie and me out to my car, leaving Killer in the house.

“Thanks for dinner,” I told him. “The best way I can reciprocate is to invite you out one of these days. Or to bring in food when the Lucky Dog is closed.”

“Until you decide on that apartment, condo, or house.” He grinned.

I smiled back. “Yes, until I decide.”

Once again, he seemed inclined to help with that decision. After I unlocked my car door and got Pluckie to jump inside, I prepared to sit down too.

But before I did, I was once more in Justin’s arms. Right here, in his own neighborhood without a fence shielding us from prying eyes, he kissed me. Again.

“Give me a call when you get to the B&B,” he said. “So I can feel okay that I didn’t accompany you home.”

This hadn’t exactly been a date, and I appreciated that he was a gentleman.

That wasn’t all I appreciated about him.

“I will,” I told him.

“We can also talk then about when and where we’ll meet tomorrow.”

I felt my eyes widen. Yes, I was interested in getting to know him better, but I didn’t want him to take over my life here in Destiny.

“To talk more about how we can try to clear Gemma,” he continued.

Surprised, I smiled.

“Assuming,” he went on, “that she really is innocent.”

“Good assumption,” I said, planting one more quick kiss on his mouth and sliding into my car.