“I’ve noticed.” I bit back a smile.
There were no guarantees that two people were meant to be. Marriages that started out with so much love and the best of intentions ended every day. It wasn’t like one half of each divorced couple was a monster. But I couldn’t help but feel that Reid’s ex had fumbled the ball big time. As I watched him scoop a kitten up in his arms and stroke it under its chin, laughing when it latched onto his t-shirt, I knew for sure that he was something special. He had a good heart.
Gran had always told me to watch out for that. She said you could fix a lot of things, or even learn to look past them, but genuineness was something engrained in a person.
And Reid had genuineness in spades.
FOURTEEN
Reid
Armchair_Detective: Who’s updating the blog post today?
WhiteKnight31: I did it last week.
ReidingRainbow: I can do it.
WhiteKnight31: Shouldn’t you be busy solving that cat cold case?
Armchair_Detective: Wouldn’t it be considered a live case? It’s active.
WhiteKnight31: Right, whatever. Either way, you should be busy.
ReidingRainbow: Kind of hitting a bit of a dead end. The ex seems like a solid suspect, but he hasn’t taken the fake-profile bait.
Armchair_Detective: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it’s always the boyfriend.
WhiteKnight31: Did you tell him you were a cat person?
Armchair_Detective: Maybe your flirting could use some work.
WhiteKnight31: Yeah, are you a professional at flirting with sociopathic men?
ReidingRainbow: I’ve had my practice.
Armchair_Detective: Any other suspects?
ReidingRainbow: Her neighbor is kind of fishy. Strange older lady. Already has a ton of cats. Hazel doesn’t want to believe it, but I think the circumstances are too perfect.
Armchair_Detective: How old we talking? Does it seem like she’d be able to figure out a burner phone number?
ReidingRainbow: I’m not sure, but regardless, we can’t rule her out as a suspect.
“Come on, add two more twenty-pounders.”West picked up two plates and placed them at the ends of the weight bar while I scowled at him.
“I’m already lifting past my goal,” I argued, but he slipped the plates on anyway. He always ignored my protests, insisted I didn’t push myself enough. Which, fair, I probably didn’t.
Going to the gym had been one of our shared routines since our college days. It had started out as more of West’s thing, but he’d dragged me along enough times that eventually, I’d started to enjoy it too. It felt good to move my body, to lift something heavy. The dopamine effect wasn’t a myth.
This gym was massive; I’d nearly gotten lost just walking in. When I told West we should switch things up, he’d given me a strange look. Our usual gym was a small, locally owned one. We knew the owners by name and the place was always spotless and easy to get a bench at. This place was the complete opposite—huge, industrial, packed with people trying to cram in a post-work workout. One of those chains that were everywhere. Decidedly not our scene. But they were offering a free trial, and I just so happened to know—thanks to some persistent location-tagging—that this was where a certain ex-boyfriend of Hazel’s liked to work out.
The idea that I would come here to spy on her ex was ridiculous. So ridiculous, I hadn’t even admitted it to Hazel. Because seriously—what could I possibly learn from watching him work out? Unless he was bragging about his catnapping skills to the person blending smoothies at the front desk, I highly doubted I was going to gain any real insight. Still, I was stuck. We weren’t getting any closer to solving the case and Ididn’t want to let her down. Plus, after spending a little too long stalking Paul’s profile, and seeing one too many old pictures of him and Hazel together, an obsessive curiosity had started digging its claws into my brain.
This was the guy. The guy Hazel had lived with. The one she claimed had been kind of an ass, but also marginally helpful when her grandma’s health had deteriorated. Was her type really gym rats with thick necks and bulking shoulders? If so, then what did she think of me? I wasn’t scrawny. I had muscles. But I was built lean, no matter how many protein shakes West had tried to shove down my throat over the years.
“Dude, let’s go. I’ll spot you,” West said.
I gave up trying to get him to remove the extra weights and laid down on the bench. The ceiling lights blurred above me as I gripped the bar and lifted it off the rack with a grunt. My glasses were set on a towel by my water bottle nearby.
