“Rawk! Eat a bag of dicks! Rawk!” The parrot’s voice is farther away.
Good thing.
I don’t want to see the parrot meet the cat.
Sloane looks out across the street like she’s thinking the same thing, then resumes walking down the four steps to her well-trimmed but browning lawn, still holding her cat. “I can’t decide if that means you’re more or less likely to have done this yourself.”
“What I want is at someone else’s house.”
She eyes me again.
Did I say having a woman suspicious of me was enjoyable?
I was mistaken.
This is too far.
A sheriff’s car pulls to the curb, and Sloane lets out a heavy breath.
I let out a slower breath as a familiar face pops out of the car.
So that’s Chester.
He was shooting me looks all afternoon at Crusty Nut.
Alibi verified.
He hitches his uniform pants up, goes ruddy in the cheeks, and looks at Sloane. “Someone did a B and E on you, huh? That hasn’t happened around here in at least four years.”
Fantastic.
“Except for Saturday night at the museum,” I remind him.
He shifts another look at me but doesn’t answer.
“You have a forensics crew?” I press.
He ignores me and talks directly to Sloane. “Welp, let’s go have a look-see.”
I suck in a deep breath so I don’t mutter anything I’ll regret later.
LikeFuck on a platter, have a fucking look-see?
“Alook-see?” Sloane’s voice gets higher. “Davis is right. Where’s the forensics crew?Someone tossed my house, Chester. That’s not worthy of alook-see.”
“He makes me nervous, okay?” Chester blurts. “He was my favorite. And now he’s?—”
The deputy gestures to me, as if to saynow he’s right here.
“Oh my god,” Sloane mutters again.
If I squeeze my fists any harder, I’ll draw blood. “I’ll go take a walk.”
“You’re a witness,” Chester says.
“Happy to give a statement after you have your look-see.”
I stroll down the center walk from Sloane’s house to the sidewalk, ignore the images of her sex toys that keep popping into my head unbidden, then hang a right, without him stopping me.
