Adare stepped out and made sure none of Gilbert’s blood remained on his clothing. The dork had seemed happy with the two grand they’d given him, once Adare had added his money to Benny’s, so hopefully he wouldn’t go to the authorities. No blood. Good.
He strode across a shoveled path being warmed by the sun and knocked on the door.
A woman answered, looking way up; she held a cute blond girl in her arms. She took a step back, her terror apparent.
He stepped away and shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual and unthreatening. “Hi. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for my friend. Her name is Grace, and she used to live here.”
The woman’s gaze went behind him to Benny, and she turned even paler.
Benny remained in place. “Howdy. I know I’m huge, but I never hurt cute women like you. I’m as harmless as a puppy.” He clapped Adare on the back. Hard. “My buddy here is harmless, too, but since he’s Scottish, it’s harder to tell. I’m not Scottish. I’m kind of Russian and a few other things melded in, and that makes me mellower than most guys my size. Maybe all guys my size. I can’t tell you how hard it is to find shoes.”
What the hell was he doing?
Adare studied the woman. The more Benny talked, the more she visibly relaxed. Maybe she related to buckets of crazy.
Benny must’ve thought the same thing. “Shoes are one thing, but have you ever thought about socks? Normal socks, even the big ones, don’t fit my feet. It’s a true challenge. My ma used to knit my socks, but she passed on to the great beyond, and now I’m caught trying to scrabble material together to cover my big feet. I like the fabric of potholders, but they just don’t make them big enough, you know?” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m not wearing socks right now, which is fine, except when I take my boots off, everyone yells at me.”
Her lips pressed together as if she was trying to hide a smile.
Adare nodded. “Yeah, he stinks. So, about my friend Grace. Has she been here?”
The woman slowly shook her head. “No. I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft with a hint of an accent. What was that? Her scent was unfamiliar as well. Sugar and lemons? Something sweet? “I don’t know any Grace.” Pink infused her cheeks and she dropped her gaze.
The woman was a terrible liar.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” Benny tugged his wallet out and scribbled something on a piece of paper. “My name is Benny, and this is my cell phone number. Call me if Grace comes by. Please.”
The woman’s hand trembled, but she took the paper. “K-Kim. My name is Kim,” she whispered, taking the paper. “I shall call you if anyone named Grace visits.” With one last look at Benny, she stepped back and shut the door.
Adare looked over his shoulder.
Benny shrugged, his gaze remaining on the closed door. “Do you sense your mate near?”
Adare tuned into the area. “No, but I’ve never sensed her.” He turned and followed Benny to the vehicle.
“Why do you suppose that woman lied?” Benny asked.
Adare slipped into the vehicle. “I don’t know. Let’s check in with the satellite guys. If they can’t help, we might need to go back in.” The woman had seemed terrified of him, but she’d lied.
“I’ll call my nephew and see what he’s found,” Benny said, uncharacteristically serious. “You’ve stabbed enough people today.”
* * * *
“You used to eat more than that,” Bobbi said, munching happily on a taco for lunch.
Grace pushed her enchilada around her plate, taking a few bites and trying really hard not to throw up. “I’ve lost weight, but I’m feeling better now.” Which was a total lie. She looked around the brightly decorated restaurant, feeling as if she had been there before. The margarita in front of her was delicious, but she was careful not to drink too much. Alcohol didn’t agree with her any longer. Not much did.
They’d been all around town, and oddly enough, she had ordered many of the same items she used to, according to Bobbi. Some of the places had seemed familiar, but no memories were jogged loose. She’d learned that Brian had become a real estate agent and that Bobbi still worked as a bank teller.
“I really appreciate you two doing this all day with me.” She took a sip of the drink.
Bobbi’s green eyes softened. “I wish a memory would just hit you.”
Brian tossed down the rest of his drink. “Maybe that’ll happen tomorrow. Like your subconscious will work on it and then boom. You’ll remember us.”
That’d be great. Grace’s vision blurred, and she waited it out, accustomed to the experience. The headache that followed was as normal as breathing for most people.
Bobbi pulled out a photo album. “If you’re finished eating, take a look at these pictures. I thought maybe they might help.” She slid a dark blue album across the table. “Since Brian hasn’t packed yet, it was easy to find.” She nudged him in the ribs.
