“I’m sure it’ll be one that sends you into fits.”
“Let’s find out, shall we?”
“I’m with you, LT, and P.S., you’re freaking me out with the uniform.”
“It’s freaking me out, too, especially since it doesn’t fit like it did at my dad’s funeral. I’ve been stress eating.”
“You’re allowed.”
“Not if my uniform doesn’t fit!”
“You’ll get back on track.”
Sam went through the wrought-iron gate ahead of him. “My poor, delusional Freddie. That’s not how it works for women. Once the fat arrives, it never, ever, ever goes away. Like, ever.”
“That is not true.”
“Yes, it is! Ask any woman. A nuclear bomb can’t get rid of fat once it’s gotten comfy on an ass or hips or arms or thighs or stomach. Fat loves the stomach.”
He cringed. “Whatever you say.”
Sam positioned her hand over the huge doorbell button. The bigger the button, the louder the commotion. “Ready for this?”
“Bring it.”
Sam pushed the button and stood back to listen to what could only be called a symphony orchestra of sounds. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“You might need to press it again so I can fully experience it a second time.”
Sam pushed the button.
“Wow, that’s got to be the craziest one we’ve ever heard.”
“Takes the gold medal for crazy doorbells. I couldn’t deal with it.” She peeked through the beveled glass on the side of the door and saw a man coming to the door wearing headphones and a scowl on his face. Sam remembered him from the party. He’d checked out their home like a Realtor hosting an open house. When he saw cops on his front stairs, he recoiled as he opened the door.
“Mr. Thorn?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m Lieutenant Holland, and this is my partner, Detective Cruz. We met when you and your son came to a birthday party at my house.” Tall with dark hair and wearing a wrinkled Oxford shirt, he reminded her of the actor Vince Vaughn.
“I remember.”
“You got a second?”
“I’m, ah, kind of busy working,” he said, seeming suddenly flustered.
“This’ll only take a minute.”
“Uh, sure.” He stepped aside to allow them to enter the house.
The foyer ceiling was easily thirty feet tall. Sam wondered if all the heat ended up at the top, but she wasn’t there to ask that question. “How’s Sebastian doing?”
Taken aback by the question, he said, “He’s fine. He’s at school.”
“Alden and Aubrey enjoyed having him at their party.”
“Oh, well, that’s good. He had fun. It’s nice of you to step up for them. What happened to their parents was horrific.”