“I’ll make my way out there. Don’t worry about it.” He rolled up to her house and swung into the driveway. “Are you going to get yourself a rental car tomorrow?”
She patted the side of her purse where she’d stashed her phone. “I’ve already made arrangements through text.”
He parked the car, and she jumped out to search the porch before unlocking the front door. “No more presents.”
She eased open the door, and Chip stuck his nose in the crack. “Yes, I brought Sam back with me. Don’t worry.”
As Sam stepped through the door, Chip pranced around his legs, wagging his chocolate brown tail a mile a minute.
How easy it was to be a dog. Chip could show his unbridled enthusiasm for having Sam back without risking heartache. It just wasn’t feasible to have unconditional love for someone, not if you wanted to protect yourself.
And she wanted to protect herself against Sam.
Sam hauled his laptop onto her kitchen table. “We’ll work here until the pizza comes.”
“I’m going to feed Chip while you’re setting up. Are we going to be able to see all deaths in the Paradiso area for the past two years? I think that’s what we need to look at.”
“We can do that.” He flipped up the cover on his laptop. “We can also search for Desert Sun Casino opposition.”
“Good idea.” She ducked into the laundry room where she kept Chip’s dog food in a plastic bin. She scooped out two cups for him and brought his dish into the kitchen where she added some warm water to the kibble.
She nudged his furry body with her knee. “You think you should be rewarded for bringing in that snake, huh?”
Sam looked up from his computer. “He can have some pepperoni from the pizza.”
“That’s not good for him. No wonder he lost a little weight after you...left.” Her voice hitched, and she balled up a fist and pressed it against her stomach. Chip hadn’t been the only one who’d lost weight.
Sam made kissing noises in the air. “Aww, what’s the matter boy? Your mom doesn’t spoil you?”
Chip turned his back on his food and trotted over to Sam.
“Do you mind? I’m trying to feed him.” She gave a sharp whistle and shook Chip’s bowl before setting it down on the kitchen floor.
Chip twirled around and made a beeline for his dish.
Jolene eyed the bottle of red Sam had opened earlier, and then pulled open the fridge. “Do you want something to drink with your pizza? Iced tea, lemonade, soda, water?”
“Water’s fine—and stop making goo-goo eyes at that wine and pour yourself a glass. Do you think the smell of alcohol is going to make me relapse?”
“It’s not rude?”
“Was it rude before when we were...dating? You drank then, and I didn’t have a problem with it. I’m further along in my sobriety now, and it’s even less of a problem.”
She uncorked the bottle and plucked the wineglass she’d used earlier from the dish drainer. She poured half a glass, glanced at Sam hunched over his laptop and splashed in a few more gulps.
As she filled up a glass of water for Sam, the doorbell rang, setting Chip into a frenzy.
Sam hopped up from the table. “Settle down, Chip. We don’t wanna scare away the pizza guy.”
He got the door and paid the bill. As he carried the box to the kitchen, Chip went back to his own food.
Sam dangled a plastic bag from his fingers. “Paper plates and napkins?”
“I asked for those, too. We don’t need to worry about dishes on top of everything else.” She flipped open the box and loosened two slices from the whole. She plopped them onto a plate and put another two onto the other plate.
“You can add a few more of those for me.” Sam rubbed his hands together. “Pizza from Mr. Pizza—one of the many things I missed about Paradiso.”
“There’s no pizza in San Diego?” She loaded Sam’s plate with another two slices and carried the food to the table while Sam grabbed the drinks.
He said, “There are some things in Paradiso that you just can’t get in San Diego.”
She jerked her head around and raised her eyebrows. “You’re pretty slick, Sam Cross.”
“Don’t get too full of yourself, Jolene Nighthawk.” He raised the glasses. “I meant the pizza and...Chip.”
She placed his plate next to the computer and took a seat.
“If you think I’m going to ruin my dinner by working, you don’t know how hungry I am.” He shoved the laptop to the center of the table and stationed himself in front of his food.
He wolfed down one piece before coming up for air and taking a drink of water.
Jolene swirled her wine. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone inhale a slice of pizza that fast in my life.”
“Did I mention I was starving?” He plucked a circle of pepperoni from a slice on his plate and fed it to Chip, waiting patiently by Sam’s chair.
“Hey! Chip doesn’t need pepperoni.”
“Look how happy he is.” Sam patted Chip’s head, and then wiped his hands on a paper napkin. “Now that the edge is off, I can take a look at this database—over another piece of pizza.”
Still seated, she scooted her chair around next to his. “Are these the deaths for the past few years?”
“Sorted by most recent, first.” He poked his finger at the screen. “Name, address, manner of death—so, homicide, suicide, accident, natural causes and some other stuff that I can collapse.”
She tore the corner off her pizza with her teeth and loomed over Sam’s shoulder, scanning the lines that contained too much information. “This is confusing.”
“You’re getting crumbs on my laptop.” He blew on the keyboard. “And you’re chewing in my ear. Give me a few seconds to get rid of some of these columns we don’t need to see. When we pare this down, we can click on the file number and it’ll take us to another database with more information about the details of
