Page 39 of Lone Star

Eden pushed her chair back so she could face him fully, concerned notch forming between her brows. “Is she alright? What’s going on?”

He gave her the rundown; brief and to the point.

“Shit,” she said, after, her expression remarkably like Albie’s had been, earlier. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Is – oh, don’t look so surprised,” she said, frowning. “It’s been a while, but I’ve spent time with your niece. She’s lovely.”

Our lovely niece, Fox had said to Albie, only hours ago.

“Of course you’re going,” Eden continued. “But what about her husband? I thought he was some great big strapping fellow. He-Man or something?”

“Candyman.”

“Ha!” Axelle said, and nearly choked on the sip of tea she’d just taken.

“Laughter isn’t the normal reaction once you set eyes on him,” he said dryly. “But, yeah. He’s usually got this sort of thing covered. It must be a special case.”

Eden nodded slowly, considering, her expression once again mirroring the one Albie had presented back at Dartmoor. Her gaze wandered across the table, the spread of photos and notebooks, and then she locked eyes with Axelle.

Axelle said, “Are you going by yourself?”

He hesitated a second, feeling like an actual fox, a wild one, poised at the edge of a trap hidden beneath the leaf litter. “I’m taking the kids. Ten and the other one. Reese. And Albie says he’s coming, even if I don’t know what good he’ll do.”

The women regarded one another a second longer. Then Eden nodded and turned to him. “We’re coming, too.”

“Why?” he blurted out, like an idiot.

“I’m a private detective, in case you’ve forgotten,” she said primly.

He swept a gesture toward the mess on the table. “A busy one, it looks like.”

“This?” She lifted a photo and turned it toward him; from this angle, he could actually make out its subject: a heavyset man with bad hair and a worse nylon jacket with his arms around a woman at least two decades younger, their lips locked. “This is my third cheating husband since I arrived here. This ugly tosser – who looks to be a terrible kisser, by the way – has somehow talked this poor girl into being his mistress. And he hasn’t got any money. His wife took out a loan to pay me for the investigation, and I felt so bad about it I’m doing this one pro-bono.

“I’m bored to death, Charlie. So yes, I’d like to come help you solve a murder in Texas.”

“But…the house,” he protested weakly. “It needs…redecorating.”

She scoffed. “It can sit here being ugly all by itself for a while just fine.” Another frown threatened. “Unless…you don’t want me along.”

He gathered a breath, and tried to touch on just the right answer.

A moment of hesitation too long.

“Ah,” she said. “I see.”

“No!”

She and Axelle both shifted back in reaction. He’d shouted.

“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s only – you don’t have to.”

She stared at him. “Charlie…”

“But you’re welcome to come, if you like. Both of you.” Even if the idea worried him, a little.

He couldn’t deny, though, that hearing her say she was bored had been something of a relief. Thank God it wasn’t just him.Thank God.

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