Zoe rose too. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you a minute.”
“Sure.” Jenna glanced at Harry, who happily sucked on his straw, and motioned for Zoe to follow. They moved to the edge of the seating area, keeping him in sight.
“How’s he doing?” Zoe asked.
“About the same.” Jenna crossed her arms. “But that’s good. With Alzheimer’s, there is no getting ‘better.’”
“I know.”
“I get the feeling there’s a specific reason you’re asking.”
Zoe looked down at the petite young woman. “Nothing gets by you.”
“That’s my job. What’s up?”
Zoe inhaled. “I’m getting married the Saturday after next. I lost my dad when I was eight. My stepdad and I haven’t spoken in a long time. I recently found out I have a half-brother, but he—well, it’s complicated. I haven’t said anything to anyone yet, but I’ve been hoping Harry might walk me down the aisle.”
“And you’re wondering if he’ll be up to it?”
“Physically, I know he is. But he seems more confused lately. I don’t want to ask him to do something that’s gonna stress him out.” Zoe shook her head. “And if I ask him today, he’s not gonna remember.”
Jenna thought about it. “I realize this is your big day you’re talking about, and you want to have everything planned out as much as possible. But do you think you could play it by ear? You and Pete intend to have Harry there anyway, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then see how Harry is that day. He’ll already be in a suit. If he’s having a good day, ask him right before the ceremony. Not only won’t he remember if you ask him today, he’s not going to remember that you didn’t ask him earlier.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. Why hadn’t she thought of that? “Brilliant.”
“Is there someone—an understanding friend—you can ask to be a pinch hitter in case it doesn’t work out?”
A few ideas came to mind, including Franklin, if he was up to the task. “Or I could walk myself down the aisle.”
“There you go.” Jenna beamed. “Strong independent women don’t need a man to give them away.”
The enticing aromas of pepperoni and cheese wafted from the kitchen, luring Pete through the maze of packed boxes in his living room. He found Zoe hanging her long Columbia winter coat on one of the hooks next to the door. More boxes, including the one holding the pizza, covered the table. He’d be glad when they got all their stuff moved to her farm.
He closed the distance between them and pulled her to him, pressing a kiss to her lips, still chilled from being outside. “Hey, beautiful.”
She gave him that sexy smile that set him on fire. “Hey yourself.” She nodded in the direction of the pizza. “Hungry?”
“Starved.” He kissed her again, deeper this time. The curves of her body melting against him stirred a more intense hunger.
She wiggled free. “That wasn’t what I meant. Get the paper plates before our supper gets cold.”
He watched her walk away. “We still have a microwave, you know.”
Not taking the hint, Zoe moved the pizza to the kitchen counter and retrieved a pair of paper plates from an otherwise empty cabinet, the contents of which were packed away in one of those boxes.
He had no idea which one.
She slid a large slice onto a plate, trailing cheese. Pinching off the gooey threads, she handed the first serving to him and licked her fingers.
Using the counter as their table, they ate standing up. “How was your day,” Pete asked.
“We autopsied a young woman who, other than being dead, appeared to be perfectly healthy.”
“Heart attack?”
“There was no sign of coronary or vascular disease. No arterial blockages. We’ll have to wait for toxicology. Speaking of heart attacks, did you hear Franklin had one in the middle of the autopsy?”
Pete choked. “No. Is he going to be all right?”
“I hope so. He has no memory of taking too much insulin and swears he remembered to eat, but I’ve seen him forget. He gets wrapped up in his work.”
Pete grinned at Zoe as she took a huge bite. “Forgetting to eat is something you never need to worry about.”
She gave him an exaggerated frown and a playful punch. “I resent that,” she mumbled around the mouthful. “You better not be hinting that I’m getting fat.”
“Oh, hell no.” He held up the hand not holding pizza. “I’m not an idiot. Besides, you have the metabolism of a hummingbird.”
“It’s not that. It’s all the barn work I do. Speaking of not getting fat, I had my final fitting on my wedding dress. Mother hates it.”
“Why am I not surprised?” He chewed. Swallowed. “The important question is, are you happy with it?”
“Absolutely.” She wiped her fingers on a paper napkin. “What about you? How’d your day go?”
“You know about the meeting with Frattini. I assume Baronick came to see you.”
“I was surprised you sent him instead of coming yourself.”
“I was going to.” Pete took a bite, chewed, and swallowed before answering. “Anthony Imperatore changed my plans.” He gave her the abbreviated version of his conversation with the attorney and his client.
Zoe picked a piece of pepperoni from her slice and studied it. “Do you think there’s anything to this serial killer theory?”
“I don’t know.” Pete mulled over the new development yet again. “I called a guy I went through the academy with. Ethan McCoy. He’s FBI now. He confirmed there is a serial killer on the loose whose MO matches the Landis homicide.”
Zoe’s baby blues came up. “You mean Dustin Landis might really be innocent?”
“I’m not willing to go that far, but I’m meeting Ethan in the morning to go over the details of the Landis case.” Pete winced. “I have to get up early to drive to the Greenwood Community Center in Brunswick.”
She popped the pepperoni in her mouth. “Why?”
“To play in a pickup game of basketball.”
Zoe snorted. “What?”
“Ethan’s leaving for Quantico after lunch. I suggested coffee, but he’s a fitness fanatic. Told me it was shoot some hoops or wait until he
