“Maybe. I’m going to go visit Than. At his house. He sounded sick.”
The length of the silence was telling.
“I know!” I said. “Finally. I’ll take as many pictures as I can.”
“Wow, is he…I mean I know he can’t die…”
“He sneezed. So…allergies? Cold? Wanna put some money on it?”
She laughed. “No. But take some cold medicine just in case.”
“Oh, good idea. I have soup.”
“You didn’t make it, did you? Because I’d hate to be the sister of the woman who killed Death. Think of the headlines.”
“Har-har. It’s in a can.”
“Only one can of water. They mean the can it comes in, Delaney.”
“That was once!” I suddenly realized I’d been saying that a lot.
“And you have to take it off the stove before the noodles dissolve.”
“Good-bye, Myra. Too bad you’re not going to see any of the pictures of the inside of Than’s house.”
“Don’t throw crackers in it while it’s heating up,” she added in a rush.
I hung up on her. She rang me back. I jabbed the red button with glee, then silenced the phone.
“You two be good,” I said to the creatures snoring away in the living room. “I’ll be back soon.”
I paused at the door, thinking maybe I should leave a note for Ryder. Let him know I was out on a wellness check of sorts. I unsilenced my phone and decided that would have to be enough.
Chapter Nine
The house was cheerfully aqua,framed in white, with a white picket fence around it. A twisted shore pine marked the point on the property where SW 10th collided with Ebb, split into two and flowed around the home. On one side of the street was a Dead End sign, on the other, No Turnaround.
Fitting.
I hadn’t known Than was looking to buy a house until Barbara, Roy’s wife, mentioned she’d heard it had closed. I could only assume it had been sold fully furnished because none of us on the force had seen any signs of Than moving in, even though we’d been diligently driving by on the regular.
We’d totally been snooping, but if anyone had asked, we’d just say we were making sure a member of the community was settling in.
The curiosity was killing me. Myra, Jean, and I had all promised we’d share pictures if any of us got through the front door.
Looked like I was the lucky one.
I parked the Jeep on one side of the house. Than hadn’t bought a car yet. We had an office pool on when and what model.
Before getting out, I checked my phone—Myra’s messages of fake outrage about me hanging up on her, Jean’s complaint about the unicorn flushing a quilt down the toilet, and then, more excitedly, squees and demands for pics as soon as I had them.
I pocketed the phone, picked up the bag, and strolled through the little white gate, up the steps and onto the porch.
I pressed the doorbell.
The bell sang out a little tune about blue skies.
I waited for a minute, then half a minute more. Maybe he wasn’t home. The front windows were dark.
