“Sarah has a cat.”
Sarah.
Ava’s mom. Beck Ryder’s wife.
He called his friends to help.
My eyes get hot again. “Thank you.”
He nods.
I step into the living room and perch on the edge of the couch, watching Peggy explore.
Davis is watching me.
“What did he take?”
That’s a question I’d rather not answer, but I have a feeling my face isn’t nearly as good as his right now at hiding how I feel about that.
It’s also a question Chester didn’t ask while I was giving him my statement.
I should’ve offered the information, and I didn’t.
He crosses the living room and sits on the other end of the couch. “That bad?”
Worse.
Because I know what it means.
I finally look back at him, and I actively squirm under the intensity of his gaze. “You know Bea? She runs the Grog?”
He nods.
“She gave me a coat that she said was Thorny Rock’s. It wasn’t where I left it. It was this old leather thing, like a trench coat.”
He doesn’t say a word.
“I know.I know, okay? I know I should’ve taken it to the museum sooner, but the museum had the break-in, and you started acting weird, and I thought I should drive it instead of walking it. I had it by the back door. The one closest to my carport. And I only had it for four days. But it was—it was in near plain sight. He didn’t have to wreck my entire house to find it.”
Dammit.
The shivers are back.
They’re making my teeth clack together as Davis watches me ramble while my cat leaps onto the bench at the kitchenette table, sniffing out the cat toys.
I force my jaw shut, trying to stop my teeth from betraying me.
“Tequila?” he says.
I look at the bottle again.
Clase Azul.
I’m unfamiliar with the brand, but the fact that he’d offer tequila instead of vodka or whiskey or rum?—
Has he watched me? Has he quietly paid attention to me when I wasn’t looking?
I clamp down on my inner teenager swooning before she gets a chance to start, and I eye him again. “How did you know I like tequila?”
