I grin as his breath tickles my cheek. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“You changed your hair,” he says. “I like it.”
I blush, feeling the heat creep over my cheeks. “Thanks,” I say with a genuine smile.
He starts to smile, but carefully clears his face, remembering where he is,why.“Acacia, why don’t you tell me what happened here tonight.”
“M-me?” I stammer, somehow unprepared though I had to know this was coming.
“You were in the café when the man collapsed, weren’t you?” he questions.
I clear my throat. “Uh, outside actually. I mean, I was just coming back in. I saw it happen through the glass of the front door.”
He turns to look out the front. “Interesting vantage point. Far as I know, you’re the only one to have it. It’ll be helpful to know your account.”
I shrug, put a hand on my hip. “Same as everyone else’s, I’m sure,” I tell him. “He stood up, didn’t look right. Started grabbing at his stomach, got sick, and fell over.”
Regis’s gentle eyes bore into mine with sudden intensity. “Definedidn’t look right.”
“Oh, you know. He, um, well… his stomach kind of swelled up, and he turned this funny color. He looked real scared.”
“Did he?” Regis scrawls something across his paper.
“That’s when he fell. And then the woman started screaming.”
His eyes meet mine. “The woman?”
I swallow, mentally kicking myself. “She came in with him. Must have been his wife or girlfriend. She’d been…hurt.”
He drops his arms, squinting. “Definehurt,Ms. Lee.”
“Her face was bruised,” I tell him. “I think he must have hit her.”
He stares at me. “That’s a big assumption to make,” he says.
I look down, avoiding his gaze. “He seemed the type. But that’s just my opinion.”
“The type?” Regis crosses his arms.
When I meet his eyes again, I think he can see the unspoken words in mine. “I’ve been around men like that,” I say. “He was bossy. And she didn’t want to look at me.”
He nods quietly but doesn’t press me.
“You can ask Myrtle,” I add quickly. “She gave the woman ice for her face after the guy died.”
He casts a glance over his shoulder at my aunt. “Did she? Funny, she didn’t mention the woman.”
I realize I’ve messed up, but it’s too late to take it back. “It was a lot,” I tell him. “She’s shook up.”
He cocks his head. “Never known Myrtle to be rattled by much of anything.”
“Well,” I try to explain, “a guy died right in front of her.”
He gives me a tight smile. “Wouldn’t have been the first time,” he says coolly.
If I could bite my own tongue without drawing attention to myself, I would.
“Thank you, Miss Lee,” he says before stepping away. “You’ve been very helpful.”
