“It would be fun but impractical. We cover too many different things all over the island.”
“I’ll help you shop for one. You know I love cars.”
“No Bentleys,” she said. “Ugh. A car payment. Again. My old car was paid off.”
“Insurance should help.”
“A little.”
“You know …” He hesitated.
“Yeah?”
“One way to save expenses would be to move in together.” Alden gave her a sidelong glance to see her reaction.
She chewed on her lip, staring straight ahead. “I don’t know. Having both of us in the same house makes us an easy target for all the people trying to kill us.” She looked over at him with a sly smile.
He snorted. “That’s not every day.”
“Only Mondays and Tuesdays.”
“Is it really only Wednesday?” He was debating whether to press her on his suggestion when she spoke.
“I think I’d like that. Moving in together. But I want to buy the car first.”
Alden’s heart leapt. He pulled into a diagonal space right in front of the Courier-Beacon and shut off the car. Rock-star parking. It was his lucky day. He turned to her. “Excellent. We can talk about it.”
“But my house, yes? Your apartment is so small.”
“I’d love that,” he said, surprised at how happy he felt about making an actual commitment. But this was Roz. He wanted to be with her forever. “Unless you want to buy something together.”
“One thing at a time, Knox. I don’t move that fast.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He leaned over and kissed her.
Roz fought a buzz of nerves and excitement as she tried to focus on their story. Moving in with Alden? Yes. Of course. And yes, it was super fast—she hadn’t known him that long. But it seemed so right.
If the last two days had taught her anything, it was that she wanted to be with him and couldn’t imagine a world without him. Living together would be an adjustment, especially since she hadn’t had a roommate since college, but she was good at challenges. And Alden would be so much more than a roommate.
She turned to work and soon was energized by their project. They posted a short story updating the news, then set up camp in the conference room off the bullpen and ordered lunch in: salads from Virgo Veggieverse, which weren’t half bad.
Printouts surrounded Alden as he typed up notes on his laptop at the table while Roz stood at the whiteboard, outlining the big article for print.
Then she sat, opened her laptop and called Mae—and learned that not only had Mae’s aunt come through with money for the bookstore, but Enolia had heard from someone at Netflix who really did want to develop her books for television.
“And they pooh-pooh the power of the press,” Alden quipped when she told him. “That was my source, I’d bet my film noir collection on it.”
“I didn’t know you had a film noir collection.”
“Be grateful I don’t collect something bulky, like fiberglass fish or old typewriters.”
“I have an old typewriter. But we can stop at one.” We. Oh, wow. This was really happening.
As Alden got into writing the story, Roz called Sebastian Esquivel.
“I saw the article this morning. Enolia Honeywood’s assistant really killed Wayne?” Sebastian asked.
“Ultimately, yes. It was his tampering with the vape pen that made it explode.” And that was an image she hoped she could block from her mind soon.
