"There it goes," Mallory says. She turns for the door. "Please tell your mother I said thank you for inviting me to stay and watch something your dad loved."
"Let me walk you out." I point around the side of the house. "You're parked right over there."
She walks beside me. Even if somebody removed my sense of sight or hearing, I'd still know she was there. I feel her energy, as if it radiates off her skin. I'm hyperaware of this woman, but I don't understand why.
Is it because she's the first woman I've had out to the grove? She's not here in a romantic capacity, not in the slightest, but her being here brings to stark relief the fact that I've never brought a woman home.
That's...odd.And probably unhealthy.
And also not something I want to look too deeply into right now.
Talking to Mallory, opening up the possibility of having her look into my father's murder, that's about all I can take.
"So you're staying in Olive Township for a few more days?" We've arrived at the driver's side of her car. I know Mallory already told my mother yes, but I'm sure there are logistics she needs to work out.
"I plan to," she responds. "First, I need to see if I can extend my stay at the inn, and make sure some things get taken care of in Phoenix." She pats her stomach. "Reschedule an appointment."
"Check in with your husband?"
Did...I...just say that?
The back of my neck heats like somebody is holding a lighter to it.What a dumbass.
Mallory's lips purse, as if she wants to laugh, but instead she shakes her head slowly back-and-forth. She doesn't make a face like she's offended, and that encourages me. Maybe I'll dip my toes in the dumbass pool one more time.
"Check in with yourboyfriend?"
Her lips twitch again. Another slow shake of her head.No. Then she says, "The only person I have to worry about is the guy chained up in my basement. He should be ok for a few more days though. He has enough length of chain to reach a rusty pipe that drips dirty water." She immediately makes a face, laughing awkwardly. "Sorry about the macabre humor. Hazard of the job."
I wave it off. I should probably be more concerned about the fact I was thinking it might not be the worst thing in the world to be chained up in Mallory's basement.
Ok, what's wrong with me? Why am I thinking this way? Maybe I should call Ambrose and tell him. It might be good to be on the receiving end of his thoughtful listening. Or I could call Penn and ask him to meet me for a beer. When I tell him the nonsense running through my mind, he'll deliver an open palmthwackon the side of my head.
Maybe that's what I need.
"Poor bastard," I choke out, smiling to show her I don't mind her morbid joke.
Mallory wiggles her eyebrows. "Maybe he likes it."
This time, I really do laugh. I can't contain it. This woman is funny.
"I'll see you later this week at the Olive Festival," she says, climbing into her driver's seat.
On a whim, I pull my phone from my pocket. "We should exchange numbers. In case you need something."
She nods like she agrees, reciting her phone number. I key it in, calling her so she has my number, too.
With a single wave I watch her drive down the dirt lane, rounding the outbuildings. She disappears from sight, but still I stand in place, watching the dust plume.
In the end, I don't call Ambrose, or Penn. I walk my ass home to my house, where I spend the rest of the evening prepping for the meeting I have tomorrow with an olive oil sommelier, and internet stalking Mallory.
Her only social media is related to her podcast, and it's not up to date. There is not a single mention of her sister, her pregnancy, or her personal life at all.
It seems Mallory is a lot like me.
Two people who had a piece of them stolen, and do their best every day to live with a heart that is not whole.
Chapter 10
