Page 20 of Cyn
Joe shook his head. “I received an email midmorning informing me they were taking jurisdiction. There was no request for my report or any files. If they couldn’t be bothered to talk to me, I didn’t feel the need to enlighten them, especially since Meleak was, so to speak, only the messenger. Not that I condone his actions, but he wasn’t the one who killed McElroy.” He paused, then turned to Cyn. “Was he?”
She shook her head. “We’ve been over this. Meleak isn’t violent, and his primary motivation is protecting and providing for his people. Killing a US soldier in the way McElroy was killed would serve no purpose to him.”
A tendril of unease twisted through him with the knowledge that she could only speak with such conviction if she knew the man and knew him well, but given that she and her friends had extended their trust to him, he felt compelled to do the same. Still, someday, he’d get the full story as to how she seemed to be on such close acquaintance with a Somali pirate.
“You need us to do anything?” Nora asked.
Cyn hopped off her stool, then slid her wineglass toward her friend. “Top us off? I’m going to grab some snacks. My body may be back on East Coast time, but my stomach isn’t quite there yet, and I’m starving.” She walked to the fridge and started pulling out pre-plated food. Within a minute, veggies, hummus, several types of sliced cheeses, and meats were laid out. Handing him a beer, she winked. “Two minutes,” she said, jerking her head to the clock on her oven that read 4:58.
She continued setting out small bowls of nuts, dried fruit, and crackers, and he popped the top and took a long sip. He had one minute before he was technically off the clock, but call him a rebel.
“So, what’s the plan?” Six asked, picking up a roasted almond and popping it into her mouth.
Cyn twirled her wineglass on the counter, the deep red swirling up the sides. “Tonight? There isn’t much of one. We’ll eat, have some more wine, catch up. Tomorrow, I’ll call Mac and we’ll see what he has to say.”
“That sounds lovely, but not for me,” Nora said. She hadn’t refilled her own wineglass, and she finished off the last sip. “Puppies,” she added as an explanation.
“Want me to take a night?” Cyn offered. Immediately, Devil and Six offered the same.
Nora shook her head. “No, but thank you. It’s not bad right now. It’s only a couple of feedings at night, and I’m hoping I can move them off the bottles by next week.”
The other three women shared a look that had Nora rolling her eyes. “It’sfine,” she said.
“Nora forgets to take care of herself whenever she finds a litter of puppies or kittens that need bottle-feeding,” Cyn said to him by way of explanation.
“Likereallyforgets,” Six added.
Nora made a face. “You guys make it sound like I spend all my time hovering over them and forgetting things like eating and showering.”
“Showering no, but eating…” Devil said.
Nora shot her friend a glare. “That was just that one time.”
Six cleared her throat. Nora swung her gaze around.
“It was more like five times,” Six said. Cyn nodded.
Nora huffed out a breath. “If it makes you feel any better, Jacob is coming in during the day to help out.”
Joe had no idea who Jacob was, but that did seem to mollify her friends. “Still, you’ll call if you need anything?” Cyn asked, leaning over and giving her friend a hug.
“Of course,” Nora responded.
“I’ll come by tomorrow before I leave for work,” Six said, getting her own hug.
“Me, too, but I’ll stop by after,” Devil said.
Once Nora was gone, Joe returned his attention to his beer and idly wondered how long he could stay without becoming that weird guest who doesn’t know when to leave. The comfort of the cozy room—and the company—was luring him in, and, despite his earlier thoughts on the house, he was now seeing the appeal. It might be a mansion, but when filled with friends and laughter and food and drink, it was also a home.
When he realized that the kitchen had fallen silent, he looked up to find Six staring at him. He had a feeling that, under cross-examination, several witnesses had seen the exact look that she was now giving him.
“What?” he asked.
She smiled and leaned forward, resting her forearms on the counter. “Joseph Bailey Harris, I think it’s time you tell us your life story.”
Chapter Seven
Several hours later,Cyn and Joe were alone in her kitchen, and Joe was at the stove cooking them up something that involved shrimp. Six and Devil had left thirty minutes earlier, and Cyn had to give Joe credit, he’d weathered the interrogation well.
