Page 26 of Over the Edge

“I’m sure he’ll be relieved to hear that.”

He ignored her droll tone. “You doing okay?”

“Yep. Other than a few bruises that are disappearing as we speak.” She tapped her cheek, where the black-and-blue contusion was fading to yellow.

“Getting back to the new man in your life—I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh. That could be dangerous.”

“Ha-ha. I’m trying to be serious here.”

She folded her hands on the table. “Lay it on me.”

“Now that Marc’s in the picture, maybe we should rethink our locked-in-stone every-other-Tuesday dinners. Be more flexible going forward.”

She stared at him. “Why?”

“In case Marc wants to see you on one of those nights. I don’t want to stand in the way of romance or alienate a potential future brother-in-law.”

“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? We just started dating.”

“To borrow fire investigation lingo, I suspect this relationship will rapidly combust.”

Her slow smile confirmed his take. “I have the same feeling.” Then she grew more serious. “But I’m not throwing you and Cara over. Marc knows we’re the Three Musketeers, and that will never change. So don’t even think about trying to stand me up for our Tuesday dinners. Got it?”

Warmth filled him at her passionate declaration.

It was inevitable that marriage would eventually alter the dynamics in their small family circle, but it was heartening to know Bri would continue to consider the sibling relationship a priority and that Marc was on board with that.

“Got it.”

“Good.” She selected a roll from the basket on the table as the server arrived to take their orders, picking up the conversation after they were alone again. “I hear you’re the lead on the Robertson case.”

“Yeah.”

“You landed a big one.”

“Luck of the draw.”

“Not buying. Your boss knows you’re tenacious—and cool under fire. The latter is an important asset when the press comes to call. And they’ll be all over this one.”

“I don’t talk to reporters.”

“Excellent strategy.” Surveying the dining room from the secluded corner table that offered an expansive view of the restaurant, she lowered her voice. “Any leads?”

“Nothing solid.” In truth, nothing period. The killer seemed to have vanished into thin air.

“No one in the neighborhood or the park behind the house saw anything suspicious? Nothing on security cameras?”

“No. And the witness couldn’t offer anything helpful, either.”

Bri stopped chewing. “You have a witness?”

Whoops.

This was why he didn’t talk to reporters. It was too easy to let important pieces of information slip that were well known to the detectives working the case but news to the public.

Except Bri wasn’t public. She was one of them.

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