Page 55 of Power of the Mind

We were back to incommunicado mode. It was the only response I was going to get. I had a hunch I’d destroyed the solid ground beneath the poor man’s feet the previous night, if not with the kiss than with my words. Any progress we’d made had been shredded. Who knew I had such power?

I pointed at the paper bag. “Peanut butter cookie? Please say it’s a peanut butter cookie. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving one.”

Another grunt and nod.

I dramatically groaned and shoved the stale crackers and no-name peanut butter I’d been eating aside. “You are the best nonfriend, nonlover, nonpartner, and nonboyfriend this world has ever known.”

Diem didn’t seem to know what to do with that and shifted his weight, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, taking them out again, glancing at the door, then settling on crossing his arms over his chest instead. The bear behind his ribs awoke.

Suppressing a smile, pretending I saw none of it, I opened the lid on the coffee and sipped. Hot and deliciously sweet. Icouldn’t make out the flavor—something nutty with caramel—but it didn’t matter. It was heavenly.

After enough of his silent squirming, I set the drink aside and leaned on the counter, propping my chin on an upturned hand. “What’s up, D? I wasn’t expecting you.”

A grunt.

“Pardon me?” I cupped an ear.

He offered an indiscernible mumble.

“Nope. No good. Still don’t know what you’re trying to say. Words, Guns. We’ve talked about this. I’m not a mind reader like Madame Rowena.”

“The case.”

“The case what? Two words does not a sentence make. I’ll wait.” I dragged the paper bag toward me and unearthed the cookie, taking a hefty bite. It was soft and chewy. Exactly how I liked my cookies.

Diem uncrossed his arms and stuffed his hands into his pockets again as he shifted his weight. “I… got a name and address for the neighbor.”

“Oh? Allan’s neighbor?”

I earned a grunt and nod.

“Keep going.” I took another bite of the cookie.

Diem noticed and became instantly entranced watching me eat. Enough he didn’t respond.

I snapped my fingers, and he blinked from his daze. “Aww, you poor thing. My mouth’s got you all messed up. Focus, cuddle bear. We can talk about the kiss later if you want.”

His neck turned crimson, and god love him, he tried really hard to look me in the eye as he spoke. “Winifred O’Neil. Fifty-six. She… um… She…” I salaciously licked my lips of crumbs, and Diem growled, “Stop doing that.”

“What?” I couldn’t contain the smirk. “I’m not doing anything. I’m eating a cookie.”

“She lives, rather lived, above Allan in a shared house on Ridley Boulevard. She’s a retired librarian. No kids. Never married.”

“Did you call her to see if she’d talk to us?”

“No.”

“Are we going to head there when I’m done with work?”

“Your case, your call.”

I ate more of the cookie, smirking. “Anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“No.”

“Nothing?” I licked my lips again.

“Stop it.”

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