Page 15 of Autopsy of a Fairytale

“Me too.”

“Do you want to go get dinner?” Garrett stood and stepped before her chair, offering her his hand. She slipped her fingers into his and let him pull her to her feet.

“Sure.” She noticed his expression and froze. “Did you mean?”

“Kind of.” He didn’t release her hand. “We both have to eat, and…” He trailed off. “Never mind. I’m screwing this up.”

“No, you’re not.” Bel smiled. “It’s just I still have a lot of paperwork. When you said dinner, I thought you meant quick takeout.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Chinese?” His voice sounded enthusiastic, but Bel read the disappointment in his eyes. An impromptu date was the best way to get her to agree. She wouldn’t have time to overthink her answer. She could tell his eagerness and lack of romance embarrassed him, but she needed not to think. Vera’s encouragement flooded her mind. Garrett was handsome and kind. How long would he wait before someone like Violet scooped him up?

“What about takeout from La Signora?” she offered. “Like a work date?”

“I’ve been wanting to try that place,” Garrett said. “I would prefer to take you there, though.” His face lit up. “How about a compromise? Agree to accompany me there when we don’t have as much work on our plates, and I’ll cook for you tonight. You can finish up while I make dinner, and when the food is ready, we’ll open a bottle of wine and ignore this case for an hour.”

“I didn’t know you could cook?”

“I’m an excellent chef.” He puffed out his chest with exaggerated pride and stepped closer, grabbing her other hand. “Both of my parents worked, so I spent a lot of time with my grandmother, who believed life wasn’t worth living without good food. She taught me so that one day I could trick some girl into putting up with me.” He raised his eyebrows in a teasing expression.

“This I have to see,” Bel laughed. “I’ll come over after I take care of Cerberus, and I might have to call your grandmother if this dinner isn’t the best I’ve ever eaten.”

“Anything but that.” He feigned pain in his chest as he released her hands. “And bring the dog. I’ll stop and grab some wine while you get him.”

Bel grinned. Smart man. The way to her heart was definitely through her pitbull.

Forty-five minutes later, Cerberus lay next to her on Garrett’s couch while he worked in the kitchen. His apartment was bigger than her entire cabin, and while it was nothing fancy, it was clean and well decorated.

“Hey?” Garrett called over his shoulder, dragging her eyes from her laptop. He held a slice of raw chicken for her to see. “Before I put this all in the pan, does he want a plate?” He nodded at the pitbull whose thick head jerked off the couch so fast, Bel’s neck hurt just watching him.

“I think you have to now,” she laughed. “Careful, or my dog might end up liking you more than me.”

“That’s my master plan.” Garrett winked as he turned back to the stove. “Bribe him into becoming my friend so that you have to come over.”

“I’m pretty sure you could convince me to visit with the smell of that alone.” Bel inhaled deeply, the aroma of herbs and pasta filling her lungs. Garrett chuckled at her statement, and she picked up her laptop and carried it to the kitchen island, where two bottles of red and white wine waited.

“Help yourself.” Garrett nodded toward them as he dumped the plain cubed chicken into a small pan to cook for Cerberus. “I wasn’t sure which you preferred, so I got both.”

Bel grabbed the red and uncorked it, pouring Garrett a glass before filling one for herself. She hoisted herself onto one of the island’s stools and took a sip as she stared at her laptop.

“They didn’t find fingerprints on the furniture encasing Lumen’s body,” she said.

“You clean a scene that well, I doubt you would leave prints.” Garrett scooped the dog’s chicken into a small bowl before turning back to their meal.

“The sterile nature of this homicide makes me wonder if the killer has a forensics background.”

“You think he’s a cop?”

“Or he was. He prepared for everything we would look for. Besides, we have little else to go on. The only person we know who could make furniture of that caliber was the victim.”

“Eamon Stone seems pretty handy.”

“Handy, yes.” Bel took another sip. “But construction differs from carving a floor-standing chandelier around a body,” Garrett grunted his agreement. “And then there is the missing heart. We haven’t found it, and many killers take souvenirs.”

“You think he kept it?” Garrett met her gaze with a slightly nauseous expression.

“If he has a forensic or medical background, he might know how to preserve the organ, keeping it as a trophy, or…” Bel sighed, realizing this wasn’t an appropriate dinner date conversation, but with her nerves firing all at once, work felt like the safest topic. “Or I’m grasping at straws. None of this makes sense.” She rubbed her face, leaving her skin blotchy.

“How about you take a break?” Garrett gently pushed her laptop closed and slid it away from her. “You have bags under your eyes. You won’t solve this on an empty stomach or without sleep. Breathe for a few hours, and tomorrow, we’ll start fresh.” His fingers slowly reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. Bel leaned into his palm, surprised by how comforting it was. She hadn’t let many besides her father and her dog touch her since New York, and she couldn’t stop the grin that curved her lips. Maybe this was what she needed. A kind boyfriend in a small town. Eamon’s intoxicating gaze flashed through her mind at the thought, but she shoved it aside, shocked by how often his dangerously handsome face seemed to find its way into her thoughts.

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