Kinley whapped her shoulder with the back of her hand. “Secrets don’t make friends. You should know that better than anyone.”
If only Kinley knew how spot-on she was.
“Promise not to say a word?” Laurel asked through gritted teeth, her slice of delicious pizza growing colder with each passing second. “I mean it, Kin. Not a word.”
“Fine. I promise.”
“We’re still married.”
“What?” Kinley’s exclamation turned heads—all of them. Everyone in the restaurant stared at the two women at the bar, Chase and Marc included.
Laurel sucked in a deep exhale. “Nice discretion.”
“I’m sorry,” Kinley apologized, lowering her tone to ask, “It’s just,howis that possible?”
“I missed a signature on the papers, I guess.”
Kinley dished another slice of smoked salmon pizza onto her plate. “And it took five years for someone to catch that? Does that actually happen these days? I feel like this is a movie or something.”
“No,” Laurel said immediately. “Not a movie. MaybeTheTwilight Zone,” she added the second in a mumble as she reached for her soda.
“Does Chase know?”
Laurel’s gaze drifted to her ex-husband, who was clapping in excitement as his team scored another run. At this rate, the Rockies would run away with the lead. She rarely watched baseball, but when she did, she liked the game to be more even. One team scoring all the runs was boring to watch. “Who do you think told me?”
“What about Ava? Does she know?”
Laurel cringed at that. She didn’t want to tell her, but she wanted the repercussions of keeping that secret even less. They were all getting along again, like they used to in high school. A tight-knit trio. Now was not the time to ruin it with more secrets. “I’ll tell her,” she promised. “It’s not my fault she ditched us for work tonight.”
“What did Chase want with your number?” Kinley pressed.
“Can we not talk about myexanymore?” Laurel flashed her a purposefully cheesy smile, turning so her back completely blocked Chase from her view. “I thought we were wedding planning. Tell me more about these pink ties.”
Chapter Four
Chase
The Rockies had the game won by the third inning, but Chase didn’t use that excuse to leave Warren’s when he noticed Laurel and Kinley pay their check and slip away. He’d hoped they’d come join the table, but instead Kinley gave Ryder a small wave as Laurel hurried out the door.
With Marc Evans sending intermittent threatening glares from across the table, Chase didn’t dare try to coax them to stay.
“I’m out,” Ryder said to Chase, pushing out of his chair when the Rockies took the field in victory, much to the dismay of all the Royals fans at the table. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” Some of the guys would stay until close to watch sports updates their wives wouldn’t tolerate at home, but Chase had a renovation project to get started on if he wanted his excuse to Laurel to be believable. He could build retaining walls in his sleep, but he knew very little about knocking down closet walls. So far, he hadn’t even moved the boxes out of the closet he planned to demolish.
Chase paid and headed toward the door to wait for Ryder. They’d left their trucks at the fire station after the monthly meeting concluded, as had most of the guys, and would need to walk back. Weaving through mostly empty tables, he spotted Henry Davenport and his wife Crissy enjoying a late lobster dinner. Warren’s most expensive meal on the menu.
“Celebrating an anniversary tonight?” Chase asked, stopping at their table.
“My birthday’s next week,” Crissy answered, dabbing her lips with a cloth napkin and staining it with a dark shade of pink lipstick. Warren’s Sea Shack was both the main bar and the only fine-dining establishment in town on Tuesday nights. “Dragged Henry out early so he didn’t have to worry about forgetting. He’s been extra forgetful lately.”
The urge to ask Henry a few questions about the fire tugged at Chase, but when Ryder came up behind him, stopping at the table, he decided to leave well enough alone. The statement Henry gave was generic.Too generic. Chase felt it was missing something, but couldn’t pinwhat. Yet, a celebratory dinner was not the time to question it.
“Birthday lobster,” Henry said to Ryder with a helpless shrug and a crooked smile.
“Warren makes the best,” Ryder added, eyeing the door. No doubt eager to spend some time with Kinley before the night was completely over. Maybe even a subtle hint for Chase to leave well enough alone about what everyone considered an open-and-shut investigation. If Ryder didn’t have any suspicions, why should Chase?
Chase was about to wish them a good evening when he saw Crissy kick Henry’s boot.
