The deputy handed Roz the bag she’d left in the house.
“That’s so sweet of you,” she said, grateful.
“No problem.” Duke smiled.
Alden rolled his eyes.
Enolia seemed flustered. “Is Craig dead?”
“He’ll be fine,” Alden groused. “He blew up your garage.”
Enolia blinked at them. “That’s not possible. He wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Roz asked as Duke took notes.
“Because he’s loyal. And he loves me. Oh, I didn’t give him any reason to think I returned his feelings. Perhaps we had the occasional night when we kept each other company, but—that isn’t going in the article, is it?” Her eyes widened. This evening’s catastrophe must have broken her filter.
Alden shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going into the article at this point.”
“Did you know Craig was behind Wayne’s death?” asked Duke. “That’s what he told Alden here.”
“Impossible!” Enolia exclaimed. “He’s a gentle soul. He would never.”
“Does that mean you killed Mr. Vandershell?” Deputy Byrd asked, mostly just to throw off the diva, Roz thought.
Enolia’s mouth opened and closed like that of a goldfish bounced out of her bowl. “Of course not.” She squared her shoulders and lowered her voice. “I suppose if Craig told Alden he did it, then he did it. But forgive me if I have trouble imagining my longtime friend being a murderer.”
“Friend and collaborator?” Alden asked.
Enolia gave him a keen look. “He is my researcher and a very fine one. I would not call him a collaborator. It’s very sweet that he thinks of himself that way. But he’s a wretched writer. Poor man.”
Fatigue washed over Roz. She looked at Alden.
He seemed to read her mind. “Can we go?” he asked the officers. “We have a story to write.”
Duke and Naya Byrd exchanged a glance. She turned to them. “Go ahead. But we’ll want to see you first thing in the morning at the station to go over it all in more detail.”
“Can’t wait,” Alden said.
“See you then,” Roz added more brightly. She, at least, wanted to stay on good terms with the deputies.
She and Alden walked away from them and stopped where they had a better view of the chaos through the open gate. “One moment.” She pulled her real camera out of her bag and took more photos and video of the ruins and first responders. The smoke glowed eerily in the flashing emergency lights, against the backdrop of a purple sky. “How are we going to get home?”
“I’ve got a guy.” Alden pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. “And my phone still works.”
“Despite your best efforts to destroy it and you.” Roz pulled out her phone, too. “While you ping Toby, I’m ordering a pizza.”
“That’s the girl I love.” Alden leaned in and kissed her cheek, then pocketed his phone, watching the scene.
Roz finished the order, stowed her gear in her bag and flashed back to that moment when Craig had Alden pinned down with the gun. She’d almost lost him. Again.
She turned to him and tilted her face up to his. An invitation.
His eyes as smoky as the sky, he pulled her close, and she angled her head to drink in his kiss. The heat, the connection helped dissipate the anxiety she hadn’t realized still churned in her gut. As they parted, warmth and longing filled her. It was funny how you could be right next to the person you cared about most and still miss them. Still want more of them.
“I’m glad you’re OK,” she said softly.
Alden ran his fingers through her hair, and bits of dusty debris fell out. “Thanks for saving me. And for ordering pizza.”
