Page 70 of Little Buried Secrets

“In what way?”

“Little things like pressing his body against hers. He also hugged her after they lost a game for what she considered to be too long.”

“Sounds like a prime suspect to me. When do you expect to speak with him?”

I wasn’t sure he’d like my answer.

“Hunter texted me his address this morning,” I said. “I’d like to stop by and talk to him if you can spare me. I know we always spend Sunday together, but would you mind if I did a little investigating for the first part of the day?”

“You’re working a case right now. I’m aware it’s your priority, as it should be.”

Except he was my priority too, and I struggled with the idea that I’d been absent more than he deserved of late.

“Want to meet for lunch?” I asked.

“Sure, what time?”

“One o’clock at the Boathouse Diner?”

“I’ll be there. I assume you’re still planning on dinner at your mother’s house?”

I shot him a wink. “Unless you have any idea how I can get out of it.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea, nor would I suggest one. Not when it comes to your mother.”

It was a safe answer, and one I’d expected. Even Giovanni knew it was far easier to give in to my mother’s wishes than to go against them.

He grabbed a couple of plates from the cupboard, placed a few strips of bacon on each, and tore another couple of strips into pieces, sprinkling them over Luka’s dog bowl. Luka, who had been lounging by the door, keeping an eye on us as we chatted, perked right up. In seconds he’d scampered over to his dog bowl, inhaling the contents in their entirety in seconds.

“How big of a slice of quiche would you like, my dear?” he asked.

“I think half of the pie should do it.”

He laughed and sliced a modest piece, sliding it onto a plate next to the bacon. He handed the plate to me, along with some silverware and a glass of orange juice. He dished up his own plate and joined me at the bar.

As soon as he set his plate down, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, giving me a nice long embrace.

“You’ll get through this case,” he said. “You always do. But first, you need a decent breakfast. You haven’t eaten much all week, and I promised your …”

He let the words he hadn’t said trail off, but I knew what he’d stopped himself from saying. He’d promised my mother he’d make sure I was eating. She knew better than anyone how often my appetite fell by the wayside when I was working a case like the one I was now.

“It’s all right,” I said. “I know my mother calls you when she can’t get through to me.”

“If I can keep her happy and you fed, I’m doing my job. Speaking of jobs, let’s eat. The sooner I get you out of here, the sooner I get you back.”

In theory, I hoped he was right.

But something told me today wasn’t going to go as planned.

CHAPTER 27

I stepped up to Coach Warren’s doorstep and pressed the doorbell. A petite, sweet-looking woman with big brown eyes, a bob haircut, and a wide smile opened the door. The first thing I noticed was how she was dressed—in a tank top and short shorts. Given it was winter and the current temperature was in the mid-fifties, I wondered how she managed to wear so little and keep warm. As soon as I stepped into the house I had my answer when I was blasted by a surge of hot air blowing out from the heater vent.

I managed to introduce myself and tell her about the case I was investigating before the hot flashes began. I stripped off my jacket, and she took it from me, hanging it on a wooden coatrack in the foyer.

“I’m Cass, by the way,” she said. “Warren is in the shower. He’s been in there for a while now. He likes his long steam showers in the morning. Why don’t you head on into the living room, and I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“I appreciate it, thank you.”

---