Page 70 of Pulse
“Not in my scenario.”
“Shut up,” she says, pausing in front of an old-fashioned ice cream shop. “Is that not adorable?”
“It looks like a dollhouse.”
“The dollhouse of my dreams.” She looks at me. “They boast forty-eight handcrafted flavors. How do you come up with forty-eight flavors that aren’t redundant?”
“Easy. Work through the vanilla variations, then the chocolate ones. Toss a pistachio in there, a buttered pecan. That’s a personal favorite,” I say as we move along down the sidewalk. “You can’t forget the coffee flavor, and a classic bubble gum. There’s mint and cheesecake. What about red velvet cake?”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“What? You asked,” I say.
“Sometimes, I can’t get a word out of you. Other times, you surprise me with the strangest rambles.”
“I like ice cream, okay?”
“Noted. Hey, there’s a bookstore. Should we drop in and take a look?”
“I’ll never say no to a good bookstore.”
We cross the mostly vacant street thanks to the weather. The sky is dreary, threatening to drop bucket loads of water on our heads at any moment. It’s the only reason I gave in to her request to visit the shopping center. I didn’t think anyone else would be dumb enough to be out.
“Hang on,” I say, digging my phone out of my pocket. I look at the screen. “It’s Ford.”
“Take it. I’ll wait.”
I kiss her forehead and answer the call. “Castelli.”
“Hey,” he says, his words clipped. “I have news.”
My stomach tightens. I try to remain passive and not put Dahlia on edge.
“Shoot,” I say.
“Dahlia’s ex-boyfriend, Freddy, was arrested last night.”
“Really? Why?”
“What’s going on?” Dahlia asks, stepping to me. “I can see it on your face.”
Dammit.
“Can she hear me?” Ford asks. “Can you put her on speakerphone?”
I look around and spot an empty grass lot next to the bookstore. “Hang on a second.”
Dahlia follows me across the street away from the sidewalk. There’s not a soul around, so I press the speaker button.
“Okay,” I say. “She can hear you.”
“Hi, Ford,” Dahlia says.
“Hey. So Freddy was arrested last night.”
Her eyes widen. “Why?”
Ford blows out a breath. “He beat up your neighbor, Burt.”
