Her phone chimed, and she nearly jumped to her feet. The text was from Ian.
Londyn is on her way over to pick up the journal. She’ll get it to forensics, and we’ll let you know what they find.
That was it. Nothing personal. Nothing asking how she was doing. And he was sending Londyn instead of coming himself. Malone’s heart hurt, but he was just doing what he’d told her he was going to do. Keep things platonic. She was the one who’d changed her mind. She needed to tell him what she’d discovered and how it might help him consider entering into a relationship. But that needed to be an in-person conversation.
She typed a thank-you, finished the last box, and carried the journal into the kitchen, where she set it on the counter to free her hands to wash up. It was cold and gray outside, so she brewed a pot of tea. The doorbell rang just as she finished putting out mugs and honey.
Londyn stood on the front stoop as Malone had expected. She wore a brown coat with a fake fur collar, not at all practical in the rainy Oregon weather, but she looked very fashionable, and Malone could appreciate that.
“Thanks for coming.” Malone stepped back. “I just made some tea. Would you like a cup?”
Londyn smiled. “That would be great.”
“Then follow me. We can put your amazing coat on the sofa if you’d like.”
Londyn slipped it off, revealing a lovely eggplant-colored suit with a white blouse underneath. She took an evidence bag and gloves from the pocket.
“Love your coat, and the color of that suit,” Malone said. “I think we could be fashion friends real easily.” Malone waved a hand over her attire. “If you don’t take this outfit into account.”
“I don’t dress like this all the time.” Londyn draped her coat on the sofa arm. “In fact, I prefer your attire. This is more of a uniform for me.”
“The prettiest uniform I’ve ever seen.”
“I work in a man’s world. I can try to fit in and hope they don’t notice me or stand out and make sure they remember me.” She mimicked a model pose. “Obviously, I chose the second one.”
She laughed, and Malone joined her.
She led Londyn to the kitchen and motioned at the stools. “Have a seat, and I’ll pour the tea.”
Londyn sat near the journal. “Is this what I’ve come to pick up?”
Malone nodded and set a mug in front of Londyn. She didn’t pick it up, instead slipped her gloves on.
“The torn page is about two-thirds of the way into the book.” Malone set down her own mug, poured honey into it, and stirred. “I think it matches the torn page Ian found.”
“Me too.” Londyn held the book up to one of the garish pendant lights hanging over the island. “And you’re right on the indentations. You might really be on to something here.”
Londyn put the book in an evidence bag and took off her gloves.
“Would you like milk or honey?” Malone asked.
She shook her head. “I’m a purist.” She laughed again, and Malone was coming to see that this woman had a nice sense of humor.
Londyn took a sip of the tea. “Odd that Ian didn’t want to come get the journal.”
Malone didn’t answer right away and considered what she might say. She didn’t want to get Ian into trouble for mixing his personal life with business.
“Ah,” Londyn said. “I thought there was something between you two.”
Malone blinked at her. “How did you know?”
“Your expression speaks louder than your words. You got this dreamy look in your eyes.” She waved a hand. “Relax. I don’t care if he has feelings for you. He’s doing his job, and that’s what matters to me.”
“Oh, good.” Malone appreciated Londyn’s straight talk.
“You two going to go for it?” Londyn picked up her mug. “Not that it’s any of my business, but when you have two sisters, you learn to get nosy about things like this.”
“We decided to keep things platonic.”
