I heard a car horn in the background, suggesting the caller was outside.
“Yes.”
“The coroner?”
I felt my scalp tighten. “Who is this, please?”
“You got Eli Hand at the morgue.”
The voice was muffled, as though coming through a filter. I couldn’t tell if it was the same one that had uttered the menacing two-word voice mail.
“Who is this?”
I heard a click, then three beeps.
“Damn!”
“Everything OK?”
I whipped around.
Pete was watching me, his face tight with concern. I was so freaked I hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen.
“I”—I what?—“got an unexpected call.”
“Not bad news, I hope.”
“No. Just—” Adrenaline made it feel like crickets were trapped in my chest.
“Unexpected,” he finished for me.
“Yes.”
“You can remove the phone from your ear.”
“Right.”
“I want to thank you for”—Pete jabbed a thumb over one shoulder toward the dining room door—“that.”
“You’re welcome.”
“She’s really very bright.”
“You’ve got to have a penis to hold that view.”
Pete raised his brows.
I responded in kind.
“How’s Boyd?” I asked.
“Talks about you constantly.”
“I miss him.”
“And the Chow feels likewise. He’s crazy about you.”
“That dog is an excellent judge of character.”
“Recognizes rare qualities that others fail to appreciate.”
I’d no idea what to respond. So I said nothing.
Pete studied my face for so long, the moment grew awkward.
“Guess you should be moving along,” I said.
“Guess so.”
“I doubt you’ll be enjoying a chatty evening.” I smiled.
“Perhaps not a bad thing.” Pete didn’t.
Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise? I knew Pete. And he sounded unhappy.
Back in the dining room, Summer had been joined by Birdie. The cat was on a chair, batting at a napkin she was dangling above him.
I narrowed my eyes at the little turncoat.
He gave me the cat equivalent of an innocent look.
“Good luck,” I said as they made their way down the front steps.
I meant it.
As soon as they’d gone, I phoned Larabee. He’d just returned home from a ten-mile run.
“Do we have someone at the morgue named Eli Hand?”
“Not to my knowledge. Who is he?”
I told him about the call.
For a full thirty seconds no one spoke.
“You don’t suppose—”
