“Yep.”
“He was kinda hot,” Tina said, her voice growing devilish.
“Yeah, he was.”
“I dunno, I would never say anything to anyone else, sopleasekeep this between us, but I just think it’s strange about Brad,” she said, her voice settling back into a near whisper. “I mean, I hope to god that’snotthe case—and it’s probably not—and Jill would kill me for thinking this, but I dunno, isn’t the boyfriend always a suspect?”
“Have you talked to anyone else? Callie, Margot? How is Jill?”
“Callie says Jill’s too distraught to come to the phone. She stopped by her house for a minute, told me Jill was a mess.”
“That’s terrible.” I plopped onto the sofa, felt my stomach form into a tight knot thinking about Jill.
“It really is, and I’m terrible for saying that about Brad.”
“Keep me posted,” I said, hoping to end the call. It worked.
—
I CARRY THEtwo cocktails into the living room and nestle next to Graham on the sofa. He’s in a playful mood and after he takes a sip, he leans over and kisses me, slides a hand under my shirt and rests it on my stomach.
“Mmmmm,” he says in a low voice in my ear, “you taste so good.”
I’m always shocked at how handsome he is, but here in the maple-colored, lamp-lit room with bourbon dancing through my veins, he looks especially delectable.
I brush my mouth against his, trace his velvety lips with the tip of mytongue. “Not as good as you.” I run my finger down the front of his shirt, stop at the top of his jeans. I kiss him again while fiddling with the button. My arms are covered in goose bumps and I want him so bad.
From the side table, my phone jumps to life. We both freeze.
“Ignore it,” he moans.
I want to, I really do, but I can’t. “Gimme a sec,” I breathe into his ear.
It’s a text. From Tina.
You need to call me. As soon as you can.
I let out a sigh and set the phone down. The mood is blown. I wanted to tell Graham about Detective Flynn stopping by in my own time tonight. I wanted a normal moment with Graham, a break from thinking about all of this. But now that moment is punctured and the inky sickly feeling spreads over me again.
“What is it?” Graham asks.
“So, the police came by today.”
“The police? Here?” He fastens his jeans, straightens up on the sofa. “Why did they come here?”
“It’s no big deal, honey,” I say, without a trace of conviction in my voice to back it up. “They just wanted to ask me some questions. Abby was found out on the land, you know.”
“Guess so, but what wouldyouknow? And why didn’t you say anything about this earlier?”
“I was waiting for the right moment. And they just wanted to know if I’d seen anything suspicious out there. Like you said, it could’ve been me.” My voice rises and I’m in danger of sounding indignant. “Anyway, that’s Tina texting. She wants me to call her. I told her to keep me posted about Jill.”
“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry. Make the call.”
“Thanks. Sorry, honey.” I swipe the phone from the table, step into the dining room, and angle myself away from Graham.
“What’s up?” I ask, with more annoyance in my voice than I intend.
“Sophie.” Tina’s voice is tinged with what sounds like fear. “I just hung up with Callie. Jill just called her.”
