“Falling bricks caved in his head.”
I laughed. “Too quick, baby. Too quick. He should have suffered more.”
“So I found a way to change back.” Lindsey caught my gaze. “I had no idea what I was. I took his truck, got lost trying to find my way back home.”
“Where’s his truck now?”
“Outside.”
“We’ll deal with it tomorrow. Can you find your way back? When the cops find him, and they will, his vehicle needs to be there.”
“I think so.”
“They won’t know a dragon is involved, but maybe they’ll think the house just collapsed.”
“Brody, I need to explain –”
“Not right now you don’t.” I pinned the gauze, admiring my handiwork. “You’re coming with me to get some food into you. Carbs, wine, water. Come on.”
I helped her to stand. Lindsey immediately put her arms around me again, holding me, maybe needing me. I hoped she did for I wanted to be needed. When she lifted her face, I smiled and kissed her. My hands on her firm waist, I rubbed her nose with mine.
“Into the kitchen.”
Lindsey drank glass after glass of water before finally sitting at the table. “You’re right. I needed that.”
I eyed the chocolate cake in a container. “How about we eat that for our late dinner? With milk. Got milk, yes?”
“Yeah.”
I sliced big chunks of the cake onto plates, fetched forks, poured milk into glasses. Sitting across from her, I dug into my piece, and shoved it into my mouth. I was hungry. “Damn, that’s good. Where’d you get it?”
“Neighbor lady.”
Lindsey ate her own, slowly, perhaps because her wrists hurt like hell. Still, some color returned to her cheeks, and she even managed a small smile. She drank her milk to the dregs, asked me for more.
“You got it.”
I poured for us both, added more cake to our plates. “We might finish that tonight.”
“She’s the one who told me. About you.”
“Who?”
“Shirley Gibbons. I think she lives a few houses down. She came to warn me that you dealt in drugs.” Lindsey half smiled, then looked away. “She said the fires at your house are from a gang war.”
I scoffed. “What makes her think that?”
“She says people are always coming and going from your place.” Lindsey swallowed a piece of cake. “And she said you killed your wife.”
I hesitated, drinking a few gulps from my glass, wondering how to say what I needed to say. “My wifewasmurdered. But not by me.”
Lindsey stared into my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Brody.”
“So what makes her think I did it?”
“Mrs. Jenson, who told the cops about the black car, says she has a newspaper clipping. Your photo. That you escaped the law.”
“No wonder you thought evil of me,” I murmured. “Her killing was in the news. Her killerdidescape and hasn’t been caught. Me, I think he’s in China or someplace like that. Will never be found.”
