He brooded for a good ten minutes before deciding all he could do was show up on her doorstep over and over and over again, until she did know him.
* * *
HE RANG HER doorbell at six forty, figuring she and her boy would have eaten by now.
Her car was there in the driveway, but he didn’t hear a sound until the door abruptly opened and she appeared, arms crossed, looking less than happy. “I told you I wouldn’t talk to you again without my lawyer being present.”
He lifted the bag he carried in his left hand. “I come bearing gifts this time.”
She didn’t so much as glance at the bag. “You’ve asked me a million questions already.”
“I have,” he agreed. “Fair warning—you won’t get rid of me until I figure out who killed Andrea Sloan.”
“Because you think I did it.”
He frowned. She hadn’t believed his previous reassurances. “No, I actually don’t, but I do believe you’re part of the answer.”
Her eyes flickered, shadows falling where they hadn’t been an instant before. After a moment, she opened the door wider and stepped back.
He hid his relief. She was well within her rights to insist on that lawyer, but was apparently relenting. It was also possible she couldn’t afford to hire any attorney worth having, but had thought the threat would be enough.
“You shouldn’t open the door without knowing who wants in,” he said as he walked in.
“I peeked out the window.”
“You might want to get a peephole installed. The better ones give you a good view of your porch while you’re standing several feet back from the door.”
Helen gave a wry look over her shoulder as she led him to the kitchen. “While I’m at it, why not have surround the house with barbed-wire fencing?”
Seth cleared his throat. “That might be a little extreme.”
“Mommy?” Wearing denim overalls and a miniature, bright red cowboy hat, her son popped out of his room down the hall. Seeing Seth, he grinned and raced toward them, skidding to a stop at the last minute to grip his mom’s leg.
“Jacob.” Seth smiled down at him. “I like the hat.”
The boy swept it off and held it out to Seth.
“I don’t think it would fit me.” Seth took it and settled it back on Jacob’s head. Then he tipped up the brim with one finger. “There. Get along, partner.”
“Giddyup!” The kid galloped down the hall, then back, giggling by the time he reached them.
“Have you eaten yet?” Seth asked.
Her brown eyes widened. “I’m afraid so. That’s not what—” She nodded at the bag.
“No, but I’m hoping you haven’t had d-e-s-s-e-r-t.”
“You’re trying to bribe me.”
“You’d be doing me a favor to take this off my hands,” he lied.
Helen rolled her eyes. “Let’s see what you have.”
“Actually,” he said, taking the lidded plastic container out of the bag and setting it on the counter, “this is courtesy of my father. A couple of ladies in his neighborhood are constantly baking goodies for him. He grumbled that he had to let out his belt a notch just last week.” Seth peeled off the lid. “Tiramisu cheesecake and oatmeal raisin cookies.”
She peered in at the cheesecake, already sliced, and the dozen or so cookies. “I accept.”
A minute later, Jacob sat in his high chair to eat his cookie and drink milk from his sippy cup. Helen poured coffee for herself and Seth, and served the cheesecake on plates.
She slipped a first bite into her mouth and made a humming sound, obviously savoring the sugary treat before she finally swallowed. “Have you tasted this?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “No,” he said, a little hoarsely.
“If I were your father, I’d marry the woman who made this.”
Seth gave a rough chuckle. “She drives Dad crazy. Anyway, as far as I can tell, he’s not interested in remarrying.”
“Really?” Her forehead furrowed. “Are your parents divorced?” Helen made a sound that was too sharp to be a laugh. “Wow. Listen to me, pretending you’re not here to interrogate me. And eating your food.” She pushed her plate away.