Fifteen
Kelly had tried allthe usual tricks to fall back asleep. She’d counted sheep, she’d focused on her breathing, and had even tried the old standby of imagining herself on a peaceful beach. Nothing worked. Not when her brain insisted on replaying every conversation, every interaction with Lori in those final weeks, searching for clues she might have missed.
Which is why she found herself padding down the hallway in bare feet to the kitchen, where she could hear Ben speaking softly, along with the murmured sounds from the television that glowed in the corner of the living room.
Dressed casually in sweatpants and a t-shirt, he was sitting at the kitchen island with his cellphone pressed against his ear, his laptop open on the counter.
Kelly stopped at the kitchen entrance, feeling a bit like an intruder. Ben was having a private conversation, and she shouldn't eavesdrop.
Eavesdropping is wrong. I shouldn’t do it.
But she couldn’t seem to make her feet move from where she was rooted to the floor either.
"I will," she heard him say. "Good night, Dad."
He'd been talking to his father. He’d mentioned that he was going to ask his dad for help finding the former coroner. She simply hadn’t thought he’d call tonight.
She cleared her throat, taking a few steps into the kitchen, letting him know she was up and awake. He startled slightly when he saw her, his eyes widening in surprise.
"I thought you were asleep," he said.
"I was," she replied, crossing her arms across her chest. "For a while, anyway. I couldn’t get back to sleep. What’s your story?"
“I don’t need a lot of sleep. I’m one of those annoying people who only need four or five hours a night.”
Of course. Because he was perfect.
“That is annoying.”
She could feel the weight of his gaze, knowing he was going to ask a few questions.
"My brain won't shut up,” she admitted, beating him to the punch. “So many questions, so few answers.”
"I know that feeling."
"I heard you talking. Sorry if I interrupted."
"You didn't. I was just finishing a call with my dad. He might be able to help us track down Whitfield."
"That's great," Kelly said, though her tone lacked enthusiasm.
Finding Whitfield meant potentially confirming that Lori had been pregnant, which opened a whole new realm of painful possibilities. However, she wasn’t all that sure about Whitfield’s cooperation. He’d been proud of the fact that he was stubborn and contrary all of his life.
Ben studied her for a moment longer, then seemed to come to a decision.
"Since we're both up, how about some hot chocolate? It's not just any hot chocolate either. It's my grandmother's recipe. Guaranteed to solve at least 30% of life's problems."
"Only 30%?" she laughed,
"Well, it won't solve murder or corruption, but it does wonders for sleeplessness and troubled thoughts." He was already moving to the refrigerator, pulling out milk. "Have a seat. This won't take long."
Kelly slid onto one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, watching as Ben moved with unexpected efficiency around the kitchen. He set a saucepan on the stove, poured in milk, and reached into the cabinet for what looked like real cocoa, not the powdered mix she would have expected.
"Your grandmother taught you to make hot chocolate?" she asked, genuinely curious.
Ben didn't strike her as someone who spent much time in kitchens learning family recipes. As a matter of fact, he didn’t look like someone who spent time in kitchens at all. He looked like he ate all his dinners at fancy New York restaurants with supermodels as his dinner companions.
Even dressed down, he was far too good-looking for simply hanging around the house on a Friday night. He ought to be wearing a tuxedo at a movie premiere or something like that.
