longer looked like he was trying so hard to be the ladies’ man that he’d once been. The gray at his temples was more pronounced, as though he’d given up on coloring it to “just a touch of gray.” His jacket, an ill-advised tweed with elbow patches that seemed a little more “professor” than “detective,” was a little tight around the middle.
“Ninety-two points on this one,” he said. Steven took the bottle.
“I’d probably like it if it had sixty points.” Kendall motioned for Josh to come inside. She looked at Steven and rolled her eyes. It was a playful gesture, not to repudiate him for a lack of knowledge.
“My husband, the wine connoisseur,” she said. Steven, however, took the bait.
“It isn’t that I don’t like a good bottle of wine,” he said, “I just don’t usually know the difference between the notes of this or that.”
“It was twenty bucks,” Josh said, hanging his jacket over the back of a chair.
“I buy by price, not points.”
“Something we have in common besides Kendall,” Steven said. Josh ignored the sarcasm, intended or merely the result of Steven’s attempt at making a quip.
“Hi, Cody,” he said. Cody looked at him, but said nothing.
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing better. Every day is better,” Kendall said.
“Wish I could say that about me.” Josh Anderson may have been knocked down a peg in the past year, but he was still surprisingly adept at putting himself back into any conversation as its focus. Steven uncorked the wine and poured it into the bulbous globes of Kendall’s grandmother’s stemware—the only thing they had in the house that was reserved for company. Josh somehow rated. Steven almost said something about that, but thought better of it. He kind of liked a kicked-to-the-curb Josh.
“Cheers,” Steven said, swirling the syrupy red liquid in his crystal wineglass. Three glasses met in the clinking sound that comes with the promise of a good evening. They went into the living room with its windows taking in glorious nighttime views of Puget Sound. The choppy waters had been sliced by a passing boat, leaving a foamy V from its engine to the rocky shoreline. They had a few moments before dinner and they chatted about the weather, the view, the things that they were doing around the house.
“How’s that class reunion coming along?” Josh asked. Kendall set down her wine.
“Don’t get me started.” Steven looked at Josh and grinned.
“Don’t get
“Since you brought it up, Josh, I’ll ask you to remind me never to get involved in another committee.” She glanced in Steven’s direction.
“Someone here could have saved me a lot of trouble.”
“Don’t get me involved in this. You’re a Wolf through and through,” he said, invoking the name of the South Kitsap High School mascot.
“So, really, how’s it going?” Josh asked. It seemed that he wanted to talk about something other than himself or the gossip around the sheriff’s office, which was fine with Kendall. There was a subject she really didn’t want to get into, though she knew the conversation would go that way eventually. She talked about the process of selecting everything with a group of people who had nothing in common other than they came from the same graduating class.
“Ask me about napkins sometime and I can bore you for a good two hours.”
“Napkins can be tricky,” Josh said.
“Not that I’d know much about that.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” she said.
“You seemed more the kind of guy who’d use your shirtsleeve to wipe off your mouth.” She paused.
“Not that there’s really anything wrong with that.” They laughed a little. It was always fun to zing Josh. Zinging the pompous was always a good time. With a lull in the conversation, Steven spoke up.
“You did have one thing worth talking about today. Tell Josh about your old schoolmate, Tori.”
“She was your old schoolmate, too,” she said.
“I told him.” Josh looked at her.
“What’s up with your old pal? Win the lotto or something?” Kendall shook her head.
“Not hardly. I mentioned it today in the office. Tori’s husband was shot and killed in Tacoma. She was shot, too. Her sister Lainie’s on the reunion committee.” Josh narrowed his brow and Kendall’s demeanor had changed. If Kendall had mentioned it, it had been so fleeting that he’d missed it. He could have called her on it, but there was no point in that.
“What’s up with Tori?” he asked.
“I’m getting the vibe here that she’s not in your top ten.” Years on the job had allowed Josh and Kendall to understand each other only too well. He could read her and she didn’t like that. Not at all. She set down her wine.
“We had our moments. I won’t lie. But really, I was better friends with her twin.” Kendall seemed uncomfortable and that made Josh dig a little deeper.
“Twins?” This time Steven jumped in.
“Yes, exactly the same, but completely different.” Kendall looked at her husband, quietly acknowledging what he said was true, then turned her attention back to Josh.
“I like Lainie,” she said. Her tone was surprisingly defensive, as if she needed to back up the so-called good twin. For some reason or another.
“And honestly, I have no idea how she could share the same genes with her sister.” Kendall stood to go to the kitchen.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said.
“Be prepared, Josh, to have the best lasagna made by a non-Italian. My husband’s a pretty good cook.” She faced the lasagna pan and started cutting, the sharp knife slicing through layers of pasta and cheese, clear, distinct strata of white and amber. Each piece came from the pan in a perfect rectangle. There would be no messy, ill- shaped portion served for the cook or his wife.
“So what’s the prognosis for Tori?” Josh asked. Kendall handed him a plate. As steam curled from the food to the ceiling, he breathed in the garlic and oregano as if it were a drug and smiled. Steven beamed. He knew he was a pretty good cook.
“I don’t know,” Kendall said.
“I really don’t know much more than what I’ve told you.”
“Did you call Tacoma PD?” Josh asked. When Kendall didn’t answer right away, Steven echoed the question.
“Did you, Kendall?” She looked at her husband. It was a hard look, the kind of expression meant to shut down that line of questioning before it went too far. Josh picked up the subtext of the conversation and pounced.
“I didn’t know you were that close,” Josh said.
“Tori and I were schoolmates,” she said.
“End of story.”
“We all were,” Steven said, taking a bite.
“But then so was Jason Reed.”
“Tori was driving a car that killed the guy. Back in high school.”
“Parm? I have some shredded in the kitchen,” Kendall said, in a completely ungraceful attempt to alter the direction of the conversation.
“Killed the guy?” Josh said, putting down his fork.
“It was an accident,” Steven said.
“Wreck on Banner. At the Jump. Tori actually did some time for it in juvenile detention. Some people thought she did more and deserved more time. Not all accidents are accidental, you know.”
“Some class you SK Wolves must have had back then,” Josh said.
“I guess so. Jason’s death hit us hard,” Kendall said, putting herself back into the conversation, seeking
