Eighth Grave After Dark Page 31


I fetched my laptop, the file on Faris Waters, and a hot chocolate, and stretched out onto David Beckham to give my back a break. The pain in my abdomen was almost gone, but it was at that moment precisely that Beep decided to try out for the Olympics, showcasing her floor routine for the judges. I patted what I assumed was her bottom as I scanned the case file on Agent Waters’s niece.

I had the distinct feeling I was being watched, but I’d had that feeling a lot lately, so I pretty much ignored it and kept reading the file. I read through all her texts and highlighted the ones that caught my attention. Cookie was working downstairs in my makeshift office. After a while, my hot chocolate got cold. I needed to check up on Cookie’s progress anyway, so I went downstairs.

The place was almost good as new. Only a few of the wedding guests remained, and they were all in the kitchen or out back where the grill was. Thankfully, Cookie’s cousin Lucille had gone. I headed toward the office but was cut off by Uncle Bob.

“Are you free?” he asked.

“No, but I’m on sale for a dollar ninety-nine.”

He sighed, adding fuel to the fire.

“Do you have a minute?”

I patted my pockets. “Not on me, but I can go through the couch cushions.”

“Charley.” He pretended to be annoyed, but I felt the emotions tumbling inside him. He was happy. Completely content. It was not an emotion I felt from him often, and if Cookie had been there, I would’ve kissed her on the mouth.

I had to admit, however, I was a little surprised. I’d ruined his pre-honeymoon honeymoon.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it. She’s like you. Won’t give up until she’s got her man.”

“That’s true. She’s a good egg. But you already knew that, I’m guessing.”

“I did.”

“You looked fantastic, by the way,” I said. He’d changed out of the tux, but he’d looked amazing in it.

“Thank you.” We were venturing onto uncomfortable ground. Compliments weren’t part of our MO. Passive-aggressive insults were. Mild threats. A little nagging here and there. “You looked pretty amazing yourself.”

My brows shot up. “I’m surprised you noticed, what with that goddess standing next to you.”

He almost blushed. “You got that right.”

“I hope the captain enjoyed himself.”

“I think he did. He’s quite … taken with you.”

Though he didn’t mean that in an attraction kind of way, I said, “Yeah, just don’t tell the old ball and chain. So, what’s up?”

“Well, we still haven’t decided exactly where we’re going on our honeymoon, and I thought you might know what she’s thinking. She won’t tell me. She wants me to choose where I want to go, but I want her to choose.”

“So, you want me to flip a coin? See who chooses?”

“No, I want you to find out where she really wants to go.”

I smiled and leaned into him. “See, that’s the funny thing, Uncle Bob. She wants to go anywhere you are. You could book a vacation in Bosnia, and she’d be happy.”

“You’re no help whatsoever.”

“Well, I do have one word of advice: Don’t take her to hell. I’ve heard it’s really dry there this time of year.”

“You’re worse than no help.”

“I know. I really do. You haven’t heard anything, have you?” He knew what I meant without my having to elaborate.

“No, hon. I’m sorry. We are working the forensics, waiting for lab results.”

Unlike on television, real forensic work took weeks or even months. Knowing that didn’t help. My impatience knew no bounds. Still, Ubie would have something new to chew on as soon as Mr. Alaniz sent in that anonymous tip about Vatican Boy. I would kill to be there during questioning. Not anybody important. I might knock off someone who groped women in the subway or talked in the theater.

I leaned in to give him a hug and whispered into his ear. “Puerto Rico.”

He gave me a quick squeeze before letting me go with a wink and a grin.

* * *

Just as I was about to head toward the office again, I decided to take the opportunity to question my investigator about the recent, and rather disturbing, developments. What on earth could Angel have been talking about with Reyes? And why was Angel defending him? Last I heard, he hated the guy with a fiery passion. He’d never trusted him, so why the sudden camaraderie?

I summoned him, determined to find out. He appeared before me, his arms crossed at his chest as though I’d interrupted something important. The kid had been dead for decades. How important could his activities be?

“What are you and my other half up to?”

A hint of surprise flashed across his face, but he recovered quickly. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Don’t try to play the innocent with me. I saw you and Reyes talking in the field.”

He lunged forward and pasted his hand over my mouth. “Shhhh,” he said, scanning the area. “How did you see us?”

I peeled his hand away. “I looked. You were there. Reyes was upset. What’s going on, and why all the secrecy?”

He cursed softly to himself. “I can’t tell you.”

“Angel,” I said, stepping closer and giving him my infamous death stare, the one that frightened man and beast alike, “either you tell me what is going on, or I swear by all that is holy—”

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