Page 72 of Three for a Girl

“How long has it been since…”

“Twenty-one years. You know, he hated me working in homicide.”

“Why?”

“He worried I might rub someone the wrong way.”

“You? You’re sweet as sugar.”

“Careful, you keep on like that and you’ll be wearing that, not eating it.”

Chad looked down at the foil covered tray in his hands. “I don’t know which is the better option…”

Ally looked past him to the house. “You’ve taken the isolation to the extreme. I put up a seven foot fence around my bungalow and a beware of the dog sign.”

“You’ve got a dog?”

“The dog being me. You move to the middle of nowhere and arm the place with a hundred cameras.”

“They’re supposed to be hidden.”

She tapped her nose. “Eyes like a hawk. Come on, you gonna invite me inside or what?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” she walked at him, and he sidestepped to allow her to pass. He rolled his eyes, then froze when he thought of the shoes on the mat, his and Romeo’s boots.

Ally stumbled on one, but didn’t look down at them. “You trying to kill me?”

“No. I had no idea you were coming. I would’ve booby-trapped the house better.”

“Very funny. I brought you some dinner, and a housewarming present.”

Chad scratched the back of his neck. “Thanks, I guess.”

“I guess?”

“Thank you.” Chad said again.

Ally marched into the kitchen.

Chad whipped his eyes around the space, looking for clues of Romeo.

Ally stopped, and Chad stepped in front of her, following her gaze to see what might have given him away. There were piles of flatback furniture print offs, and too many cups and plates for a man that supposedly lived alone.

“What?” he asked.

She hummed, placing her dish on the side. Chad stepped in front of what he thought was the cause of her unease, Romeo’s jacket hanging by the back door. There were four jackets hanging up, excessive for one person.

Ally reached into her handbag and pulled out a huge pink candle. “It’s rose scented. It will help with the smell.”

“What smell?”

She placed the candle down, and pulled a lighter from her handbag. As soon as she’d lit the wick, she sighed. “Much better.”

“What is?”

“Nothing.”

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