Page 10 of Playing Along

I step back, then go over to where Frank is watching the tow truck proceedings.

“Thanks for all of your help with this,” I tell him, adopting a casual pose: hands in my pockets, one hip slightly jutted back, smile pasted on. “It’s nice to know Nora has such supportive coworkers.”

Frank’s gaze swings my way for the briefest of seconds before going back to Kenny. “Who are you again? Her boyfriend or something?”

“Uh,” I begin, but I’m saved from having to answer by Nora’s loud voice as she addresses Kenny.

“Thanks so much, Kenny, for taking care of my car.” She’s going overboard on the loudly thing; speaking to Kenny as if she suspects he’s hard of hearing. She’s never been the coolest under pressure. In the past I’ve found the way she gets easily ruffled adorable. Tonight I’m praying it doesn’t get her arrested for murder. “Hey, babe,” she waves her phone around in my direction, “I’m going to text Mr. Wharfman and let him know Kenny here towed my car.”

Babe? The word sticks in my brain, lodging itself there like an invasive species bent on wreaking havoc on my entire ecosystem.

“Okay.” Somehow I manage to acknowledge her words despite how off-balance I feel. This was a bad idea. Did I really think I could spend time with Nora without getting my heart broken again? That having her near me, reminding me of everything we once shared together, wouldn’t affect me?

I’m such an idiot for getting involved with her again.

Okay, and for the covering-up-a-murder thing.

Also a bad idea.

Also makes me an idiot.

No need to discuss why the former is somehow more of an issue for me. This isn’t a therapy session, so I’m going to leave the psychoanalysis out of it.

“Alright, well, since you’ve got the situation in hand here,” I say to Kenny, “Nora and I are going to be on our way.”

I’m itching to get back home and move Ian Wharfman’s body off my property. It feels a bit like I’ve left a ticking time bomb in my garage.

I’m a detective. Most of my friends are detectives. The image of one of them showing up unexpectedly to my house and finding the body has me practically sprinting back to my car. Out of habit, I grab Nora’s door for her. She pauses between the open door and her seat, her green eyes finding mine in the darkness. “Always the gentleman,” she murmurs, then dips down into her seat.

I’m left standing there, wondering if she meant that as a compliment or a criticism.

I give myself exactly five seconds to contemplate this before shutting the car door behind her and hurrying over to take my place in the driver’s seat.

We drive back to my house in complete silence.

Chapter 5

Nora

I MUST BE in shock.

That’s the only reasonable explanation for the fact that all of the feelings for Jack that I’ve spent the last three years burying beneath heaps and heaps of knitting projects, books, work, and cheese (because cheese is better than chocolate) are somehow managing to push their way back up to the surface. Like weeds. Feeling weeds.

As soon as I’ve pulled up one, three more pop up in its place.

In my defense, he is helping me cover up a murder.

Plus he keeps flexing his hand muscles and opening my car door.

I basically have no choice but to be attracted to him.

Tell me I’m wrong.

“Are you doing okay?” Jack’s low rumble startles me from my thoughts. They’re the first words either of us has spoken this entire car ride. A car ride which is over now, I realize with a jolt. We’re in his driveway.

Time to move the body.

A shudder runs through me.

---