If Hooks Could Kill - By Betty Hechtman Page 0,114

hadn’t seen each other since the last time at the storage place. I accepted his offer and took a big sip of the icy drink. When I handed the bottle back, he put it to his lips and drank some. I don’t know why, but it seemed very personal.

“Then you got a place?” I said. “Where?”

Barry’s mouth curved into a friendly grin. “In Tarzana, over by Lindley. I took Jeffrey with me and we found a place that works for both of us.”

“Good,” I said. We stood there for a moment not saying anything. “Well, take care,” I said picking up a box and starting to walk toward the greenmobile.

“Let me get that for you,” he said taking it out of my arms. “I’m one hundred percent okay.” To demonstrate he picked his leg up and jiggled it around. “I’m still getting physical therapy, but I don’t really need it. Even without the resolution I wanted, the two cold cases I was working on are settled. At least the maid isn’t under suspicion anymore.” He let out a satisfied sigh. “And I’m back at my regular job. Thank heavens I’m done with that nine to five stuff. It is definitely not me.” He sounded happy but there was this feeling that he wanted to say more.

He set the box in the trunk of my car and insisted on walking back to my locker and helping me with the rest. At first we walked in silence. Then he stopped, which made me stop, too.

“I want to tell you that I was wrong. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was ridiculous trying to push you into getting married. And the whole thing with the condo in Simi—putting down a deposit and putting my place up for sale without telling you or Jeffrey.” He took a few breaths and then looked me in the eye. “It was great staying at your house. Not the broken foot and leg part,” he said with a chuckle. “But you were wonderful to Jeffrey and me. We’d broken up and you let us stay with you anyway. We both felt welcome, too.” He halted again. “And I’ve missed you since we left.”

We walked the rest of the way to my locker and he grabbed a box. I took some shopping bags. As we started back toward my car, he spoke again. “Remember how you asked if we couldn’t just leave things the way they were when I gave you the ultimatum?”

I remembered it well. I couldn’t understand why we had to get married or be broken up—why we couldn’t find a common ground. I nodded.

“Is that offer still on the table?”

The truth was I missed him, too. The time we’d spent together while he was recuperating was different. Maybe because there weren’t the pressures of being a couple. I had gotten to know him better. I had seen him when he felt vulnerable and then when he got his confidence back.

“Yes, the offer is still on the table—to be friends,” I said finally.

He looked a little disappointed at the last part, but recovered. “I can deal with that.” The words were barely out of his mouth when his cell phone rang. I heard him answer and by his voice I knew it was work. A body somewhere, a suspect to question or maybe a lead to follow. It was back to business as usual.

* * *

I drove home and unloaded the boxes before going to meet Dinah. I told her about Barry as we headed down the street and she smiled knowingly. “I never believed you two were done. Do you think he’ll really stop pushing you to get married?”

“Wouldn’t he be surprised if someday I went and said yes.” Then I laughed. “I just agreed to be friends, anyway.”

We walked down the block and turned on Kelly’s street—and did a double take when we saw what was going on. Though it was dark out, the street was bright as day thanks to the light atop a crane. The pavement was in the process of being wet down by several production assistants. Even without Adele’s commentary, I knew that was to give it more contrast. Eric was in his uniform and stationed at the curb, prepared to stop any traffic that might want to go down the street. A group of neighbors were gathered near the Donahue house and their front yard was filled with equipment and more lights that were focused on their driveway.