around the room.
“Can you prove that?”
“No, I drove.”
“From California?” Grace’s face registered disbelief. “That takes a few days. I just talked to you.”
“I was on my way here,” he explained.
Something about his story didn’t ring true to Zach, but he resisted the urge to call this guy a liar. Maybe if he could get him alone.
Grace set down her coffee and leaned towards her friend. “Why? And why didn’t you tell me?”
At least she was dressed tonight and Zach couldn’t be distracted by imagining her without her robe. The bulky sweatpants didn’t do anything for her petite figure. The opposite could be said for the midriff-baring white t- shirt. And she hadn’t bothered with a bra.
This was worse than Grace in a robe.
He took a sip of his coffee to cool himself down, or at least distract himself.
“I wanted to surprise you.” Mark’s gaze flicked to Zach then back to Grace. “I wanted to talk about our last conversation. Say it was all okay.”
“But you were on your way before we had the conversation. This doesn’t make sense Mark. You know I’m in the middle of something.”
What was she in the middle of? This thing with Lors? Murder? Zach didn’t want to believe that.
“Why didn’t you knock on the door?” Zach asked.
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wake her.”
Reasonable on the surface. The hairs on Zach’s neck still stood in response to this guy. Something was not kosher with him.
After two full days of work and two nights of interrupted sleep, Zach’s fatigue took over. “You going to be okay with this guy, here? I can drive him to a hotel.”
Say, “No.”
Grace nodded. “We’ll be fine.”
Zach rose, put the cup in her sink and left them to whatever they planned to get up to tonight.
Zach’s distrust for Mark propelled him to do some research on him. He sat in his office, his computer screen the only light.
Footsteps clomped down from the apartment above. He braced himself.
Celia wore a bright red sweat suit. Her hair told him she’d been asleep.
“Did I wake you?”
“Not really. I had a dream. Were you in some trouble?”
Zach shook his head and went back to his search. He found out who Mark’s parents were and where they lived. He hoped Celia would just go away.
“I don’t mean any harm,” she said.
He didn’t look at her. “But you always cause it.”
“You’ve always been embarrassed by me.”
He couldn’t deny her accusation. “You wear your ‘gift’ on your sleeve.”
She sat in his chair reserved for clients. “You’d think I wore a turban and told fortunes.”
“That’s about how much people respect what you do.” The pained expression on her face had him wishing he could take back his last statement. “I’m sorry.”
She rose. “You’re not, but I’ll forgive you anyway. That’s what I do.” She walked towards the stairs. “Beware of someone named Mark.”
She disappeared. He only half heard her as he realized where Mark had gone to high school. Even worse, where he’d been a year ago and who had been there, too.
Chapter Eleven
“I came to surprise you for your birthday, Gracie. Is that so odd?”
He sat hunched over a beer at her kitchen table.
“Yes, because you aren’t that sentimental.”
She sat on her couch, grasping a pillow to her chest. Bad vibes robbed her of her strength. Mark being here wasn’t a good sign, but she didn’t know why it was a problem. Did it fit into the Dolores’ situation? Too many question rolled around in her brain.
The past few days had her more off-balance than usual. If she didn’t get back on track she wouldn’t save Dolores. The idea sent a shudder through her.
“This is a pivotal birthday. You could lose this power.”
“And you know I won’t miss it,” she said with honesty. The “gift” was more like a too small sweater some distant aunt knitted for you. You didn’t want it, but you still had to write a “Thank You” note.
“You will if you don’t solve this murder.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She shrugged and yawned. “I’m in no mood to argue. You got a place to stay?”
Mark finished his beer then stood. “I’ll find one.”
Zach perused the paper at this desk the next morning while consuming a fast food egg sandwich. Not a usual reader of the sports page, he almost put it in the recycling bin when he remembered Grace’s prediction.
He dropped his breakfast on his napkin when he saw the score of the Phillies’ game.
“Damn.”
Zach wasn’t sure what to think so he went back to his sandwich. But he wasn’t hungry anymore so he wrapped it up and dumped it into his trash.
Within a minute he was out the door and into his car. He pulled into Dolores’s driveway ten minutes later.
Grace answered the door to his ex-wife’s house with a satisfied smile on her face. Did actor boy inspire that?
“You read the paper,” she said.
His scowl hurt his face. “Yes. Lucky guess. We need to talk.”
“Dolores is asleep so let’s talk outside.”
The day had dawned warm with a light breeze. Wisps of Grace’s hair had escaped from her pony tail and were blowing around her face. He longed to brush them away.
“Speak. Do you believe me or not?”
“You know something. I’m not sure how or what. Spill it. How does she die?”
The absurdity of his words were not lost on him, but if he could prevent a death then this foolishness would be worth it.
“She’s shot, then her house is set on fire. I don’t know by whom. She couldn’t tell me.”
“When?”
“Tonight. Someone she knows. I heard the cops saying there was no forced entry.”
“That’s why you think it could be me. I have a key. But it could be anyone she knows. You, for example.”
Grace waved a hand to her apartment. “Search my place. I don’t have a gun. I’m not sure where I’d get one illegally.”
“You could have it on you. And I know you love when I touch you.”
Her face went white and she took a step away from him. “I’m not carrying.”
He could have fun with this. “But how do I know?”
Her gaze went over her outfit. “Where?”
With a short t-shirt and skin tight denim shorts on she wouldn’t hide a gun anywhere. “True.”
