“The articles spin a lot of theories, but they were short on facts.”
“Believe me, I dug deep. But I came up empty handed.”
By seven Malcolm was bone tired and needing food and a break. He’d thought about Angie several times over the day, and each time he did, his sense of urgency for the case ramped. They’d not made plans or agreed to see each other again. This morning he’d kissed her and told her to be safe. But that had been it.
Now as he parked across the street from King’s he realized he wanted to see her. Not just to assure himself that she was okay, but because he wanted time with her. Around her, he could be himself. He could show her all the darkness and ugliness of his job and know she wouldn’t be afraid to listen. An encounter with her always left him juiced and ready to tackle the next hurdle.
He pushed through the front door and found her sitting at the bar talking to Eva. Their heads were bent close. He could see they were lost in conversation. His sisters were like that. They had some kind of code talk that only they got. Like all sisters, his sisters fought, laughed, and would defend the other to the world in a heartbeat.
He didn’t want to intrude on their vibe so he took a booth table. Just seeing Angie calmed his worries and allowed him to relax if only for a few minutes.
He ordered his meal and was on his second coffee when Angie slid into the seat across from him.
“So were you going to say hello?” she said.
With Angie it was right to the point. That’s what he liked about her. “You had your sister thing going. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“You could have interrupted.”
“Naw. I learned long ago not to get between sisters.”
She raised a brow. “You have sisters?”
“Two. Eleanor and Tess.” He pretended to shudder. “Getting between them is like putting your hand in a shark tank.”
A smile tipped the edge of her lips. “I promise not to bite.”
“That’s saying a lot.”
“I may be the Queen of the Dammed, but I can restrain myself.”
God, but it felt good sitting here with her. He knew that whatever he tossed Angie’s way she’d give it right back.
“How many Kiers are there?”
“Some would say too many. I’m number three of four.”
“Good to know.”
His meal arrived. “You eating?”
“Eva said she’d send it over.”
“Good.” He was hungry, but he’d wait.
She sat back in the booth. “Go ahead. Don’t let your meal grow cold.”
“No rush.”
The lull gave her an opening to ask about the case. “I’m trying not to obsess, but … did you get an identification on those bodies?”
“No word yet. But assume that it was not Dixon or Donovan. Could be a couple of vagrants fighting over shoes or drug dealers. Don’t let your guard down.”
“I’ve been careful. Has anyone seen either?”
“No. I spoke to many of Dixon’s acquaintances and came up empty. Also spoke to a guy at the paper named Robert Farmer. He’s one of the few at the paper who will still work with Donovan.”
“Robert? Tall guy, short hair, nicely dressed?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
A wry smile twisted her lips. “A guy joined my AA meeting last week. His name was Robert. He was nosy and didn’t seem to fit.” She shook her head. “Typical Donovan.”
He shoved out a breath. “I wish I’d known when I was talking to the guy.”
The waitress arrived with Angie’s salmon cakes, and they both held back comments until she moved away. “One fire victim appears to have been killed like the girl in the motel. His throat was cut.”
“Which means?”
“Could mean a lot of things. Just keep your eyes open and your mace in hand.”
“Sure.”
They ate in silence for several minutes. “We should talk about last night,” he said.
“We don’t have to.” The truth was she didn’t want to. She just wanted to cling to the glow.
“Like it or not, last night changed a lot.”
She raised her gaze, her shock clear. “Please, you don’t have to.”
He cocked his head. “Don’t have to what?”
“Make more of it. I mean, it was great. Really great in fact. But …”
Malcolm shoved out a breath. “Are you running scared, Carlson?”
Her gaze steady, she shook her head. “No. I’m not scared. I’m practical.”
“Maybe I’m not.” What the hell had gotten into him? “Maybe, I’d like to see more of you.”
“Why?”
That made him laugh. “Gosh, Carlson, I don’t know. Maybe it is the way you ride your broom or cast spells.”
She set her fork down. “The thing is, Malcolm, I could really learn to like you. I don’t know why, but I could get attached.”
That pleased him. “And that’s a bad thing because?”
“Oh, it would be great in the short run. It would be really great. But in the long run we’d hit the wall.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You want things in life that I can’t give you.”
“You’re kind of jumping ahead, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I am. But that is one of my strengths. I can look ahead and see the problems. It’s what makes me a great attorney.”
“So you don’t want to spend more time together?”
“I would. But I’d always be wondering when you would finally realize I wasn’t enough.”
“You’re enough.”
“For now.” Bitterness tightened her voice. “But not in the long run.”
“Why don’t we just take it a day at a time? Hell, you might wake up one morning, look at me, and decide I’m not worth the effort. I mean, I work like a demon and I’m moody as hell when the case goes poorly.”
She chuckled. “You, moody? Never.”
He leaned toward her. “My point is neither of us knows what will happen, so for now let’s let it ride.”
“I’ve never been good at letting anything ride.”
“Try it. You might like it.”
She sighed. “Can you tell me if we got serious that it would not be an issue for you that I can’t have children?”
“Carlson, you are just too many steps ahead of me.”
A sad, knowing smile tipped the edge of her lips. “I might be able to let it ride with someone else. I can’t do that with you.” She leaned forward and laid a warm hand on his forearm. “Let’s end it now while we’re still friends.”
He shook his head. “You’re dumping me.”
“Just preventing us a lot of pain.”
Angie’s head pounded with the final image she had had of Malcolm Kier. He’d been sitting in the booth, staring at her. The hard lines of his face were deep with frustration and annoyance. She’d have loved to get to know him better, but the facts were plain. He wanted children, and she could never give him that. Unshed tears burned in her throat as she got out of the car and grabbed the grocery bag from the backseat.
“I am not going to cry. This is silly. I don’t need him. I don’t.”
She parked her car in front of Vivian Sweet’s house. She wasn’t sure why she’d slipped down the back staircase at King’s and driven without an escort here. She walked up the sidewalk and rang the front bell. She’d called minutes ago from her cell, and Vivian had agreed to see her.
The front door opened with a whoosh. Vivian’s expression was sober. “What brings you here so late?”
“I was in the grocery and passed by the formula and diapers. I thought you could use them.” It seemed a paltry offering in light of what the woman was enduring.
Vivian accepted the bag, but didn’t invite Angie inside. “Every little bit helps.”
She searched beyond Vivian into the living room for the baby. She was disappointed he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. “How is David?”
>
Vivian shifted so Angie couldn’t see into the house. “Doing fine. He’s sleeping now. Had a bad day. Fussy.”
“He’s not sick, is he?”
“He’s cutting teeth.”
Angie didn’t know the first thing about baby timetables. “Is it normal to cut teeth at his age?”
“He’s a bit late, but he’ll catch up.”
“Does he see a doctor?”
Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “Lulu took him when he was little. He’s been healthy since I had him so I haven’t taken him.”
That didn’t sound right. “So he’s current on all that he needs?”
“Close enough for now.” Defensiveness crept into her tone.
Angie wanted to say that wasn’t good enough. But the boy wasn’t hers. “How are you feeling?”