Page 44 of Deja New
“Death Proof. ”
She dropped her hand. “Tarantino fan?”
“Not really. He’s loud, and not subtle. But he thinks he is, which gets old.”
“You’ve described almost all of my blood relatives.”
He laughed again. “To be honest, his movies remind me of my job. So they aren’t escapist for me. But I love his soundtracks. They’re eclectic and, unlike virtually everything else he does, subtle.”
All I had to do was invite him over and let him lean on our doorbell and I could have seen a dimple! Argh, so many missed opportunities. And the dimple.
“But we’re getting off track,” he reminded her. “As I was saying, I’ve got nothing new for the file.”
“I know. It was beyond decent of you to come here and tell us yourself.”
“But.” He leaned forward, his blue-eyed gaze never wavering. “I would imagine you’ll keep working it.”
Angela could feel herself flush with pleasure. Kline had never, not once, referred to her assistance as “working the case.” Unless “Jesus Christ, I don’t need a civilian getting in my way!” was code for “working the case.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Commendable.”
She took a page out of his book and deadpanned, “No.”
He laughed. Again! “Had that one coming. But listen, if anything comes up or I think of anything, I’ll get in touch right away.”
“Thank you so much!”Why am I excited? It’s not like he askedme out.“And could I call you if I have a question or run across something new? Or should I pester CCD?”
“Please pester me. If it’s beyond my scope, I’ll be glad to hand you off to one of their detectives.”
Again: Why am I so psyched? It’s not like I asked him out, either.
She knew why. It was an excuse to see him again, however slim.My dad’s killer might not ever be found which makes me happy because I can occasionally call Jason Chambers. That’s fucked up.
“Aw, you two are cute.” Jack bustled over with armfuls of plates. “Soup’s on. Not literally.”
Jason inhaled. “Something smells wonderful.”
Her little brother beamed. “That’d be my cologne, also known as Dawn Ultra dishwashing liquid. Or Angela’s perfume,Eau de Office Max.”
“Angela wearsDune.” Jason paused. “Sorry. I think that might be one of those things I shouldn’t have picked up on. Or, having deduced it, shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Not a problem,” Angela managed, because all the spit in her mouth had dried up.Drinks chocolate milk. Great socks. Wonderful smile. Hard worker. Atoning for adolescent bad behavior. Notices my perfume. I might die. I might die right here in the kitchen at the turtle table. I’m coming, Dad! Soon we’ll be together!
“Or maybe you’re smelling...” Jack presented their meals with a graceful flourish. “Steak Diane with mushroom risotto. Those’re reheated from last night but the endive and watercress salad I just made.” He turned and shrieked, “Any of you useless fuckwads want to stuff your mouth holes, get your asses to the turtle table!”
Angela started to turn back to Jason to apologize, and almost missed his chuckle. He was already sawing into his steak.
“Thanks, Jacky.” Angela managed—barely—to not clap her hands. “Oh, looks wonderful.”
“Well, you liked it well enough last night, so.” But he was pleased.Whew!Because there was a careful balance to complimenting Jack: too far in the take-him-for-granted category and your next three meals would taste like bacon mixed with paper towels and tears. Go too far in the other direction, he was too embarrassed to go near the kitchen for a day.
“Oh. God.” Jason looked up, chewing furiously. His eyes were narrowed with pleasure. “Outstanding.”
Jacky jabbed her in the ribs and muttered, “Marry this man.”
Don’t tease, Jack.
