Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,70
the bowl near the pot, her brows drawn down together. “So, they both knew the victims?”
Aaron shook his head and slid onto one of the barstools. “Brianna only knew Mia, the girl we found today. She was a resident for a while at the women’s shelter where she and Paula work. For a time, Paula was a resident there, too. Paula knew Art from volunteering in the homeless community. Brianna never met him.”
“Is there any chance Paula has more connections to these murders?”
Before Aaron could formulate an answer, the front door opened. Kirk F and Matt came in bearing four pizza boxes and two carryout bags.
“What did you get?” Katie asked, after giving her husband a quick welcoming kiss.
“These are pies—cherry and apple—for dessert,” Matt said, setting the bag on the countertop. “Kirk F was in charge of the pizzas.”
“Two meat lovers, one pepperoni and a white pizza,” Kirk F announced.
“A white pizza?” Aaron asked, wondering what kind of God-awful concoction his young friend was foisting on them.
“Alfredo sauce instead of tomato, with grilled chicken and onions,” Matt explained with a nod toward Kirk F. “The pizza boss said that was Brianna’s favorite.”
“Ordered it once a week when I was living with her.” The younger man grinned. “Thought it was weird at first, but the lady is allergic to tomatoes.”
“Tomatoes and avocados?” Aaron said. “That’s a bit odd.”
Katie’s lips quirked up and a twinkle set in her eye.
“What?” he asked.
“I had a nurse friend once who told people she was allergic to mushrooms when she simply didn’t like them.”
“Why did she do that?” her husband asked as he pulled five plates from the cupboard.
“Because it’s easier than having to defend why you don’t like something and having people look at you like you’re weird,” Brianna said behind them as she closed the bedroom door. “Paula will be out in a minute.”
“So, you’re not allergic to tomatoes and avocados?” Aaron asked her.
“Tomatoes no, I just like white pizza.” She turned to Kirk F, who was putting the pizzas on the table. “Sorry about that. The first time I ordered that pizza and you gave me that are-you-crazy-look, I just reacted like I always do.”
“No problem,” he answered with a grin. “I kinda liked the white pizza.”
“And avocados?” Aaron pushed, wanting to know if she’d been faking that too at all their lunches.
Brianna patted him on the shoulder. “Those I am allergic, too. The kind that makes your lips swell and you start wheezing.”
“Definitely no guacamole for you then,” Katie said, dipping out some of the chicken and dumplings into the bowl.
The bedroom door opened again and this time Paula, carrying Stanley came out. She set the wriggly dog on the floor and he made a beeline straight to Aaron.
He scooped him up. “Hello, boy. You been good?” Letting the dog lick his chin a moment before he settled him on the floor again. “Go lay down.” The pup did just that on one of the throw pillows.
Brianna helped Paula into a chair and Katie served her up the homemade chicken and dumplings.
“That smells so good,” Paula said, taking a whiff before dipping her spoon in. “I didn’t think I was hungry until just now.”
“Nana said it’ll cure you faster than the drugs from the doc,” Kirk F said taking a seat beside her.
She put a spoonful in her mouth, immediately closed her eyes as she chewed and swallowed. “Oh, my God. That is heavenly.”
Everyone pulled up a chair and dug into the pizzas. Brianna kept them chatting. They talked of food, Nana, updates on the Edgars clan, Paula and Kirk F’s respective classes. Everything and anything not to do with the case.
By the time desert was finished, Paula looked spent, Brianna helped her to one of the two leather sofas in the living room, and Stanley, who had eaten enough pizza crusts to make his own, crawled into her lap.
When the doorbell rang, everyone paused a moment, then Aaron and Matt drew their weapons, and Katie moved to stand in front of Paula, who was soothing a low-growling Stanley. Matt took up a defensive position on one side of the door as Aaron went to answer it. He glanced through the peephole then motioned everyone to stand down. “It’s Special Agent Smith.”
He opened the door as he put his weapon back in his holster. “Glad you found the place,” he said, shaking the other man’s hand.
“Studied a map and your directions were spot on. I didn’t want to use the GPS,”