Her nose wrinkled as she sat up. “I want to shower.”
“Do you want help?”
Vee shook her head. “Sounds tempting, but I think I want to get my tears out and wash away the stench of the morgue.”
“What have you eaten today?”
“The eggs and vegetables you made this morning.”
“I’ll cook us dinner while you shower.”
Her cheeks rose, and her green eyes seemed to clear. “I don’t remember you being so domestic.”
I shrugged. “Living alone for most of my life can do that. My mom taught me how to cook and not starve. I stopped by the store and picked up steaks, potatoes, and salad.”
“I don’t eat meat.”
I made the connection. “Oh, that’s why you didn’t have bacon.”
“You’re right.”
“Okay, I’ll figure something out.”
“You can eat whatever you want,” Vee said. “My choice to stop eating meat was more about health than any high moral ground.” She stood.
I maintained my grasp of her hand and stood. “Did you tell him goodbye?”
More tears flooded her eyes. “I told him I loved him. I can’t remember the particulars.” She freed her hand and wiped her nose on her arm. “They’re doing an autopsy before sending him to the funeral home.”
“Why?”
“Some stupid state requirement for fatal accidents.”
“When should it be done?”
Vee turned toward the large clock over her fireplace. “I don’t know. The man at the coroner’s office said usually twenty-four to forty-eight hours. They’ll probably notify Daphne when it’s done. I couldn’t stay at her house another minute. I wanted to scream.”
I smiled. “You can do that too if you want.”
“I did in the car.”
“Shower and get comfortable.” I brushed my lips over hers.
Vee took a few steps and stopped, turning back to me. “How many reporters were downstairs?”
“I don’t know for sure. The first floor was more crowded than on a game-day Sunday.”
“There were reporters camped outside Dad’s property.”
“I guess that’s Daphne’s property now.”
Vee shook her head. “I’ll tell you about that after my shower.”
Watching her walk toward her bedroom, I recalled what I’d wanted to say to Simpson. Maeve was more than pretty. She was intelligent and fun, kind and compassionate. Her smile lit up a room or an entire football field. Her loyalty and dedication were without bounds. She was stunningly beautiful whether she was waking up or dressed for a social event. Her purpose overtook her fears. She’d never met a challenge she couldn’t conquer. Yet she could be confident and vulnerable at the same time.
“Vee,” I called.
“Hmm?” She turned my way.
