“Oh, which one? I used to love reading Agatha Christie books when I was younger, and I’ve watched all the TV shows made from her books—Miss MarpleandPoirot.”
“It’s calledAnd Then There Were None.”
“Wow, you’ve never readAnd Then There Were None?” she says, eyes wide. “That was one of my favorite books.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I’m still trying to see if I can figure out who the murderer is.”
“I bet you that you won’t,” she says, smiling.
“You may be right.” He chuckles. “I’m not very good at solving crimes. That’s why we have a private investigator coming to figure out what happened to this necklace.”
She freezes suddenly, and I wonder if she’s worried. I study her face. I don’t think she stole it. She seems too genuine,innocent, and truthful for that. But I have realized in my thirty-two years that you can’t always tell when someone’s lying.
“When are they arriving?” she asks softly.
“In a couple of days. I think he’s doing some research.”
“Oh. Research on what?” she says, her voice squeaking.
“Everyone who works in the house,” he says, and then walks into the house and closes the door, as if he weren’t in the middle of an active conversation.
“What sort of research?” She turns to me now, trying to look casual. Though I can see the flush in her skin.
“Criminal records and stuff like that,” I say, staring at her. “Nothing you have to worry about, right?”
“No. I don’t have a criminal background whatsoever,” she says, glaring at me.
“Good. Then you have nothing to worry about.”
“Is he doing a full background check?”
“I suppose so.”
“What does a full background check include, by the way? Like education?”
“I would assume so.” I shrug.
“Jobs?” Her voice goes really high.
“I would assume so.”
“That’s great.” Her mouth twists up, and she fiddles with her handbag. “So, are we ready to go?”
“I’m ready to go. Are you?”
“Of course. Can I ask you a question, Hunter?”
“Certainly. You may ask me two, if you so choose.”
“Why, thank you. How gracious of you.” She rolls her eyes, and I try not to laugh. I love bantering with her. It’s the highlight of my day. I sometimes try to remember what life was like before I met her, and all I can think of is that it was dull.
“I try my best,” I say. I offer her my hand, and she looks at it in surprise. Like it’s a foreign object she’s never seen before,and she doesn’t know what to do with it. Her expression seems uncomfortable, yet she doesn’t back away.
“Shall we go to the car?” I offer her my hand again, and this time she allows me to take it. Her hand feels warm and small in mine, and I hold it carefully.
“You don’t have to hold my hand,” she says as we walk towards the car. “It’s not needed right now.”
“You’re my girlfriend. As my girlfriend, I would hold your hand.”
