Page 78 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

“My smoke alarm thanks me when I buy the pre-made versions.”

“I said I’d cook. Just tell me what you want to eat.”

“You were serious about that?”

“I’m always serious about food. You feel like having steak? Pasta? Casserole?”

“Can we have sushi?”

“Sushi?”

How the fuck did a person make sushi? I had no idea, but if Kim wanted that, I’d work it out.

“If it’s too difficult, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, we’ll have sushi.”

Fish and rice, right? How tricky could it be?

***

Wyatt was due in an hour, and I was watching a YouTube video on how to make California rolls while running through facts from the case in my head. I did my best thinking while I cooked. Something about slicing and dicing made ideas click in my brain, and I hadn’t had a kitchen to use for months.

“Can I do anything to help?” Kim asked.

“We’ll need some way of organising our thoughts later. Paper, pens, Post-it notes.”

“A whiteboard? I’ve seen those on cop shows.”

“You have a whiteboard?”

“I organise things for a living. Of course I have a whiteboard.”

She did indeed. By the time I’d fiddled around with a bamboo rolling mat, three kinds of fish, vegetables, rice, and seaweed sheets, Kim had replaced a painting in the dining room with the mother of all whiteboards, extended the leaves on the table, and covered it with enough stationery to give Staples a wet dream. She’d already started with the paper clips, and so far, we had a chicken, two dogs, and what looked like a dinosaur.

“Velociraptor?” I guessed.

“It’s a parrot.” She pointed at the tray of food in my hands. “Are those edamame beans? I love edamame beans.”

Psychic, pretty, and easily pleased. What more could a man want?

“Here you go. Wyatt’ll be here soon.” As if by magic, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it. You carry on with your…cat?”

“Rabbit.”

Close.

Wyatt gave a low whistle when he walked inside. “Nice place. Planning weddings must pay well.”

“Kim’s good at what she does.”

He looked back at me. The swelling in his nose had gone down slightly since yesterday, but there was still a definite kink in the bridge.

“And you like her, huh?”

“So what if I do?”

“I didn’t think she was your type.”

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