Page 60 of Truth, Lies, and Second Dates
“He’s a stepbrother.”
“Dammit!”
“Why are you fighting me on this? When have I steered you wrong?”
“Chicago. Honolulu. Los Angeles. Anchorage. Portland. The other Portland. Dallas. San Fr—”
“You have to trust me. I’m literally your wingman.”
She groaned and rubbed her forehead. “First, this isn’t a movie. Or aTop Gunremake.Or a rom-com. Well, maybe that last. Eventually.”
“Don’t youevermake fun ofTop Gun.You know it’s the reason I’m a commercial pilot.”
“Yeah, about that—ifTop Gun, the gayest nongay movie ever, inspired you, why didn’t you join the navy?”
“Huh. That’s exactly what my mom said.”
Ava glanced up, spotted him, and Tom hoped the look of relief was more about real pleasure in seeing him rather than escaping the conversation. “Hi, Tom. Thanks for waiting. India, you remember Tom Baker, Hannah’s uncle. Tom here is my… uh…”
Thishe could handle. “Her podiatrist.”
“What? No, we’re not doing that anymore. Tell him who you really are.”
“Oh, apologies. I thought we were still using that subterfuge.” He extended a hand to First Officer James. “I’m the medical examiner for Ramsey County in Minnesota.”
“Sure you are.” India turned back to Ava. “Come on, you guys can’t even keep your stories straight. There’s clearly nothing happening here.”
“Ouch,” Tom said mildly.
“All I’m saying is give my guy a call. If you don’t like him, case closed.”
“Your wife has, at rough count, two thousand cousins and at least one stepsibling. The case willneverbe closed. But speaking of closing cases…” She paused and gave Tom an expectant look.
No worries; he still had this handled. “I’mnota podiatrist. I’m a medical examiner.”
“Oh my God. I gave you the perfect opening to talk about the—never mind.” She shook her head and took his arm, which he supposed some might have found inappropriately proprietary. “Let’s go. Chowder beckons. Well, maybe shrimp cocktail beckons. See you on the next leg, India, you annoying male version of Emma Woodhouse.”
“Hey, you finally watched it!”
“I read it, you troglodyte.” Then, under her breath to Tom: “Okay, I might have watched it,thenread it. Still means I read it.”
“I heard that!”
“Run,” she told him, and they both broke into a jog.
Thirty-Two
Thanks to their timely sprint, they were able to beat a small crowd traveling together and snagged a decent table toward the back. Ava eschewed the justly famous chowder for a bucket of steamers, and Tom went with the grilled salmon. The waitress left, and they got down to business.
“What’s on your mind? Besides murder and bodyguarding?”
“I was wondering if you had heard from Dennis.”
“Uh…” She paused, thinking. “Not since I took him to see the disaster the vandal left. Haven’t heard from him since, and as you saw, he wasn’t at the second night of the memorial. Why? Do you think he’s in trouble?”
“… no.”
“You’re killing me with the pauses.” She heard herself and nearly choked. “Not literally.”
