Murder in Waiting - Lynn Cahoon Page 0,24
cauliflower mashed potatoes to the plate, as well as a side of green beans. I guess he didn’t want me going away hungry.
“Probably not.” He studied me. “Are you sure you’re not getting into the investigation? Are you holding back on me?”
“Yes, I did start a paper list, but I haven’t talked to anyone besides you and Toby, and no one has told me anything. Except what you just did. I still can’t believe he was married once, not to mention five times. I guess you never know about someone’s private life. Is the working theory that one of the wives drove over him due to late alimony? Do judges even assign alimony anymore?”
“Not usually, unless there’s a large discrepancy in individual funds.” He finished his real mashed potatoes before I could do a taste test with my fake ones.
Individual funds: that’s what I wanted to talk to Greg about. I set down my fork, wiping my mouth with my napkin. “Greg, there’s something I want to get straight.”
He frowned and set down his own fork. “Is this going to ruin my appetite?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged and looked at the half-eaten lunch. “Should we wait until we’re done eating? I don’t want you to be late for an interview or something.”
“Now I’ve got to know. Tell me you’re not kicking me out because I work too much. You knew who I was when we got together.” His phone went off and he groaned. “Sorry, I have to take this.”
I nibbled on my food while he talked to who I thought was Doc Ames on the other end of the phone. Luckily, they didn’t talk much about the specific details of the autopsy or I wouldn’t have been eating either.
“Sure, I’ll drive in. See you in thirty.” He hung up the phone and wolfed down the meat loaf.
“Look, it’s not about…”
He held up a finger, stopping me. “I can’t take the time to talk. Just put a pin in this and I’ll wake you up before I go into the station tomorrow and we can talk. If you don’t want me out tonight.”
“I don’t want you out tonight.” I felt frustrated. “Look, you need to know what I’m asking, so you won’t…”
“Think the worst? Honey, that ship’s already left the harbor.” He stood and kissed me on the head. “I won’t think the worst until we can talk. That way I can still pretend everything’s all right and I can focus on this investigation.”
He threw two twenties on the table. “See you tomorrow.”
Carrie stepped over, and we both watched Greg hustle out of the restaurant. She picked up his plate. “If I didn’t know better, I would have said you two must have had a fight.”
I wasn’t sure we hadn’t.
Chapter 7
I pulled out the notebook when I got home. I’d screwed up the conversation with Greg badly and I wanted a chance to fix that one before I talked to my aunt. Who knows, if I didn’t, by the time the night was over, I might not have a boyfriend or even any relatives who talked to me anymore. Instead of worrying about what might happen in the future, I decided to worry about what happened to Frank.
Yeah, I know, I told Greg I wasn’t investigating, but that was before I also told him that we needed to talk and, somehow, he’d taken that as I was kicking him out. I shook the idea out of my head. He was stressed, I was stressed, it probably hadn’t been the best time to open up a conversation about setting up a prenuptial even before he’d asked me to marry him. I paused at that thought. Maybe I was chasing mice here instead of antelopes. But the door had been opened, so I had to tell him what I’d really wanted to talk about so his mind didn’t fill in the blanks.
I made a note on my calendar to talk to Greg in the morning, then turned to the notebook. What had I found out since Frank had been killed? I had the description of the truck and the plate number already in my notes. I hadn’t asked Greg if that plate had been tracked down yet. So I put a question mark in the margin. Then I added Greg’s information about five ex-wives. What did a historical expert make a year? It couldn’t be much. I quickly sent my question to Justin via email. As a history professor, he might