I type back, This for now. If we find out it was killed, we can look at more then.
Meg nods as I relay that to her while I type.
“Well,” she huffs out, “now that that is out of the way, explain the tension-laced drama we walked in on.”
“Oh, did you want to talk about the “we” you are speaking of?” I tease. “You and Maestro?”
“Shut up,” she grumbles.
I lift a shoulder helplessly. “As much as I want to talk it out, it would feel like breaking a confidence. Erik is intensely private.”
“Yeah, I get that. I feel the same way about how I feel about the…” She stops herself and shakes her head. “Do we need to do anything before the guys get here tonight?”
I wrinkle my nose. “We should probably clean. I know I need to sweep and vacuum. For dogs with almost non existent hair, they create lots of dust bunnies.”
Chapter seventy-nine
Christianna
Dinner with the guys has become a nightly ritual the last few days. They show up, and David creates gourmet meals that look effortless for him.
Coulson is still there when they pull up.
We’re standing on the porch, his shoulder braced against the doorway. I give a small wave as the car passes and refocus on him.
“The necropsy didn’t give us much,” he says. “Older animal. Been dead a few days. Nothing conclusive.”
“So maybe nothing,” I say. “Just a coincidence.”
“Could be,” he replies.
He glances down at the folder in his hand. “We pulled the electronics while we were at it.”
Something tightens low in my chest.
“Were you getting calls from an unknown number?”
“Yes,” I say. The word comes out sharper than I intend.
“It shows Rasmussen was blocking his number,” Coulson says. “Calling you several times a day.”
I press my fingers to my lips. “They were breathing calls. I stopped answering after the first few. They were a nuisance. I didn’t think much of them.”
He looks up then. Meets my eyes.
“There’s more,” he says. “He had gambling debts. Someone’s been paying them off. Started a few months back. I’m trying to trace it.”
He closes the folder.
“I finished the perimeter cameras and motion detection,” he adds. “Good thing I did.”
I nod, though I don’t know why.
He steps off the porch, already pulling his phone from his pocket.
It irritates me that I know all of this.
I recognize the irritation for what it is. Something to hold onto instead of Erik and Remy’s question, still unanswered.
