“Unusual,” I supplied.
“I suppose that’s one word for it. I can come up with a few more that aren’t worth speaking in polite company.”
It was my turn to grin. “I can’t say that I fit into that category, but I appreciate your restraint.”
Becks tapped the file on the desk before pulling away. “I’ll let you know what I find out. Come find me later if you need someone to talk to after you finish all your phone calls.”
It was a kind offer, one I may or may not take advantage of. Most likely I’d crave Boone’s understanding touch. I’d always crave that. Boone was my go-to person. He was the first one I wanted to speak with when something good happened. Unfortunately, that worked in the opposite route as well. Sometimes I quelled that desire, unwilling to burden the man I loved with the emotional weight sitting on my chest. Time would tell if today would be one of those days or not.
With a heavy sigh, I stretched out my fingers and picked up my phone. There was one piece of paper I hadn’t given Becks. It was a list of our victim’s names, along with the state they were from and a phone number for the precinct who’d taken the missing person’s report.
Pushing aside my emotions, I dialed a Maryland area code.
“You look a little worse for wear.” Boone greeted me at the door, much as he often did. I wasn’t offended by his lessthan stellar opinion on my current appearance. The truth was, I felt more than a little worse for wear. “Long day?”
I slipped through the door, the screen quietly closing behind me. I’d oiled the shit out of the hinges, and it was now a silent tap instead of a harpy’s screech. Shit, I’d probably just insulted a harpy or two.
“You could say that,” I answered, tossing my jacket on a nearby hook and loosening my tie. I envied Boone’s casual lounge pants, worn t-shirt, and socked feet. Boone smelled freshly showered and appeared extra comfy. I couldn’t wait to strip down and cuddle next to him.
Boone’s arms slipped around my neck. He had to go up on tiptoes to do it. I appreciated the effort and leaned down, meeting him halfway. No longer chapped by winter’s cooler weather, Boone’s lips were soft and welcoming.
“God, I missed you,” I said, reluctantly pulling away and resting our foreheads together.
“Missed you too.” Boone inhaled, as if he’d also missed my scent. Releasing his hold around my neck, Boone’s hands slid down my shoulders, resting on my biceps. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted for dinner. I know it’s late. Do you want to order something in? We’ve got fixings for turkey sandwiches, but that’s about it.”
“A turkey sandwich sounds great.” My stomach growled in agreement, and Boone chuckled.
“I’ll start pulling things out of the fridge.”
I followed Boone like an imprinted duckling. Sometimes I wondered how I’d managed without having his backside to track. “You don’t have to do that. I can—”
“I want to. Now be a good boy and sit down while I bring things to the table.” Boone blew me an air kiss as he went to the fridge, purposefully sliding across the wooden floor in his stocking feet.
“One day you’re going to fall on your ass doing that.” It was half tease and half worry.
“Good thing I have an unlimited supply of Pops’s pain charms,” Boone said in a singsong voice as if my concerns were foolish.
I only managed a grunt as I sat down. I’d been sitting on my ass most of the day, and yet sitting on that kitchen chair still felt good. Before I knew it, bread, turkey cold cuts, cheese, sliced tomato, and lettuce found their way to the table, along with a glass of lemonade.
“You want a beer instead?” Boone asked.
“Lemonade’s fine.” It was more than fine. “I may get a beer later. If I drink one now, I’ll be out like a light, and I need to shower today’s filth off me before I pass out.”
Pulling out a chair beside me, Boone sat on the edge—close but not quite touching. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’d rather hear about your day. At least right now. Maybe later when I get that beer.”
Boone blew out a breath that sounded more like a raspberry. “Not much to say on my end. Honestly, today was mostly a bust. Sheriff Andrews called.”
I swallowed a bite of sandwich before I asked, “Did you get the all-clear?”
“Hardly.” Boone rolled his eyes. “Opal’s murderous husband is really throwing the weight of the judicial system into things.”
“Do we know for certain he murdered her?” I thought that’s what they wanted Boone for.
Boone waved me off. “Not officially. But something stinks, and it’s not poor Opal’s corpse.”
I nearly choked on my sandwich. “So why did Sheriff Andrews call?”
