Page 84 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer
“Or help?” Amy adds.
“I wanted to see how far you’d go.”
Amy groans. “Can we skip the part where you psychoanalyze us through your cop-guy lens and skip ahead to the part where we all go to jail?”
Noah’s eyes stay on me. “You’re not going to jail.”
“You sound awfully sure.”
“I am.” He takes a step toward me, voice low and certain. “Because I’m going to fix this.” He gestures to the new grave.
Amy straightens. “Hold on.What?”
“Not right now,” he adds. “It’s too fresh. And the soil’s unstable. If I dig more now, someone will notice.”
“What do you mean? Like who?” I ask, suddenly aware of how exposed we are out here.
“Anyone. The nosy neighbor with the bird feeders. The kid with the drone. A meter reader who decides to wander. Doesn’t matter.”
“Nancy,” I say.
He looks at me quizzically.
“Nancy is the nosy neighbor.”
“Nancy.” He snaps his fingers. “That’s who was at Tom Brady’s house with the widow.”
“Sounds about right,” I say. “She’s a total busy body.”
“I remember that,” he says with a soft smile.
“Okay, so you’re… what? Just going to wait until the heat dies down and sneak back like some criminal contractor?” I ask.
He scans the yard again, like he’s already measuring it. “I’ll dig it deeper. Line it. Compact the base. Then I’ll build over it.”
Amy looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “Buildwhat, exactly?”
“Something permanent,” he says. “Patio. Outdoor kitchen. Raised planter box. Hell, maybe a fire-pit. With stone. Something no one will ever think to move.”
“You’ve done this before,” I say before I can stop myself.
His eyes flick to mine. “Yes.”
Amy lets out a low whistle. “You know, when I said we needed a man around here, this wasn’t what I meant.”
Noah glances at her, deadpan. “You get the fringe benefit of being best friends with the woman I can’t live without. You’re welcome.”
Amy stares at him, then at me. “Wow.”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” I mumble.
“You don’t have to,” Noah says.
Amy takes a slow step back toward the house. “You know what? I’m gonna go.”
“Now?” I ask, following her.
“Yeah. I’d like to not be here when that inevitably explodes into something naked and complicated.”
