Page 21 of Fluffed and Folded

She shook her head, smiling, looking slightly less tense as she let herself out of his apartment.

CHAPTER 13

The next morning Eli received a text from Sheena. It had been such an eventful 24 hours that it took him a moment to remember that she was his last date, before it all began. He’d mentioned something about doing it again, hadn’t he? Yes, he had. Was it poor etiquette that he hadn’t contacted her yet? Was it too eager on her part that she had? In her defense, the text was neutral and casual and cute.

I slept so hard after our outing. Pretty sure it was all the tryptophan in the creamed corn and roasted turkey. You?

He thought of his nights lately, interrupted by Darby and her quasi confession. There was no way to tell her about that, especially after all the hours he logged with Darby after that. Even if there was nothing between him and Darby—and there wasn’t, he was certain—it wasn’t the sort of information women liked to hear.

Maybe someone actually drugged you and my presence prevented a kidnapping,he sent, sidestepping the tricky question of how he’d slept. As he pulled out to head to work, he saw the sanitation company Tristan suggested, their giant truck already stationed in the parking lot. He wondered how long it would take them to ready the apartment, and was surprised tosee Tristan’s car in the lot when he arrived home. He must not have been the only one who was shocked because Mack and Anthony stood together, staring at the apartment, too. Eli meandered to them. They shifted, allowing him into their gossip circle.

“New tenant in Asher’s place. That’s callous, man. Body’s barely cold,” Anthony said.

“I guess our little landlord is a mercenary, can’t get enough of the pretty money, know what I’m saying?” Mack agreed. They turned to Eli, waiting for his take on it.

“Actually,” he began slowly. They hadn’t decided if he was going to pretend not to know Tristan or not. Tristan himself answered the question when he emerged from the apartment, set eyes on Eli, and gave him a heads up nod of recognition. “Actually, he’s a friend of mine who’s been looking for a place. I mentioned there was an opening in my building and he must have made the call to Darby that set things in motion.”

Mack whistled appreciatively. “Wonder what that call to Darby was like? Maybe she took a look at him and decided she was interested.” The three men watched Tristan, his massive biceps flexing as he picked up what probably would have taken Eli three trips and carried it back into the apartment.

“Eh, I don’t think so. Plus he’s dating a friend of mine, that’s how I know him,” Eli explained.

Mack and Anthony studied him, as if reassessing his status, in light of his connection to the testosterone-laden newcomer. “You’re really friends with that guy?” Anthony said.

“Yeah, he’s dating one of my oldest friends,” Eli said. They were watching him skeptically, forcing him to maintain eye contact. He was telling the truth, but the situation was riddled with so much subterfuge that it made him feel sketchy. Remembering the true reason for Tristan’s appearance in theirlives, he shifted and changed the subject. “Pretty crazy about Asher, right? What do you think happened there?”

“I don’t know, man,” Mack said slowly. “It’s pretty freaky. Could have been any of us, yo?” His eyes scanned the lot, as if looking for possible assailants.

“Could it have, though? Do you really think it was random?” Eli asked.

“Don’t you?” Anthony returned. “I mean, who’s going to murder Asher?”

“Someone did. It has a better chance of being someone he knew than someone random. I didn’t know anything about him. Did either of you?”

They shook their heads. “We’ve talked. He was into lifting, kayaking, the usual stuff,” Anthony said.

“He kept to himself, but…” Mack began, then lowered his voice again and looked around. “He always had a lot of money, you know what I’m saying? And that car.”

“What car?” Eli asked. He wasn’t a car guy, went more for serviceable than awesome. That was reflected in the matching looks Mack and Anthony gave him.

“The Lotus Esprit,” Anthony said, in the tone of someone saying “the air that we breathe.”

“Oh, right. I didn’t know that was his,” Eli said, nodding. In truth he still had no idea what they were talking about, but he assumed it was the cherry red sports car that had always been parked in the lot.

“Yeah, it was his, and it was crazy that he parked it here, in an open lot,” Mack said, motioning to the lackluster parking lot.

“How much do you think it would go for?” Eli asked.

“A hundred thou, easy,” Anthony added.

“What?” Eli exclaimed, spitting a little as his brace-addled lips gave way. “How would he afford that? And if he could affordthat, why did he livehere? And, good point, why did he keep it in this lot, begging to be noticed and stolen?”

“What are you, the lost Hardy Boy?” Mack said, staring at him with barely disguised amusement.

“It invites a lot of questions,” Eli said. “Aren’t you curious about it? The money? The, I don’t know, nighttime stabbing a hundred feet away from your dwelling?”

“Hey, it’s none of my concern,” Mack said, putting up his hands as if to make it clear he wanted no part of it.

Anthony looked away, also dissociating from the scene. “Huh,” Eli said, uncertain of what to do with their extreme disinterest. “I guess I should see if Tristan wants some help.” He eased by them and went to the apartment, pausing to knock on the open door.

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