doesn’t age?”
“Do you have the hots for him or something?” Jim asked through a smile.
“No. Just for you, because you’re so lovable.”
“And free.”
“Yup. Men with a record really turn me on.”
Jim laughed in spite of himself. His face looked drawn and his eyes were bloodshot.
I reached across the table for his hand. “Was it awful?”
“The conditions? No. It was remarkably clean and quiet, actually. But it still sucked being away from you and jelly bean. And stressing over whatever the hell George has gotten himself into.”
I squeezed his hand. “So what happened at the lineup?”
“Not much that I could tell. They told me to walk into a room with four other guys. We stood there, turned around, posed. I prayed.”
“Did you see the witness?”
Jim shook his head.
I fingered the menu. “After everything that’s happened, I was scared, you know, scared that they would actually try to build a case against you or something.”
“God, me, too. Crane made it sound like the wrong person is identified more often than not. But even so, he told me the cops probably couldn’t hold me even if they did get a match, because it would have been circumstantial evidence, and I guess they need more than that for a homicide arrest.”
“Like a smoking gun.”
Jim raised his eyebrows and nodded. I filled him in on George’s story about the missing gun. Jim’s face was grim as he listened.
Tony appeared with an antipasto, compliments of the chef, his father, who peered at us from behind the pizza oven and yelled, “Beautiful baby, it’s about time!”
Tony asked, “What will it be tonight, the usual or something else?”
Jim glanced over at me. I nodded. “The usual.”
Jim dipped his bread into olive oil. I continued my George story and ended with the impending birth.
“Is he going to marry Kiku?” Jim asked.
“He says he doesn’t know yet. And when I went over there to give her this bracelet, she said it wasn’t hers.” I pulled the silvery metal out of my pocket and showed Jim.
He took the bracelet from me and read it. “Where’d you get this?”
“It fell out of one of George’s bags. Do you think he’s seeing someone else?”
Jim shrugged his shoulder. “God, honey, with George, who knows?”
He scooped salami into his mouth, looking miserable. He motioned to Tony and ordered a beer. I poured olive oil on my bread plate and dipped the bread in silence. Laurie cooed and ah-gooed from her bucket seat, determined to get our attention.
After a few pulls on his beer, Jim said, “You know I care about George, Kate. But all my life he’s always been more trouble than he’s worth. It breaks my heart. You gotta know that. Here’s the person who’s the most genetically similar to me on the planet and . . . if he’s like that . . . I can’t be too far—”
“Stop. You know you’re nothing like him. Genetically, okay, I get that. But come on, you guys are totally different.”
“It didn’t feel that way today, sitting in jail and then having to do a lineup. It was the low point of my life.”
I scooted out of my side of the booth and slid in next to Jim. He put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder. “How do we get out of this, honey?”
“Mrs. Avery hired me to find out who killed Brad. I can solve this, Jim.”
He smiled. “Leave it to my lovely wife. She’ll get us out of the hole by digging deeper.”
“I can solve this.”
“I’m sure you can, what with all the experience you have.” He grinned in spite of himself. “You know, I’ve got to admit it, honey, if you really want something, you keep on insisting until you get it.”
“I really don’t want to go back to the office.” I rubbed his back. “How can filing drawings, managing schedules, and making coffee compare to being with you and Laurie? Plus I really want to keep you out of jail.”
Jim smirked. “Tell me your best theory.”
Just then a piping hot pizza, topped with Gorgonzola, pancetta, and caramelized onions arrived at our table. “I’ll whisper it in your ear.”
He served me a piece of pizza, placing his hand on my thigh. “This gets better and better.” He leaned in close to kiss me. “And by the way, I love your new haircut.”
•CHAPTER EIGHTEEN•
The Sixth Week—Separation Anxiety
At 7 A.M. Laurie and Jim were both still sacked out from the day before.
I got out of bed. I had only a week and a