Dead Men Don't Chew Gum by Nina Cordoba

Author:Nina Cordoba
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Funny mystery, mystery romance, private investigator mystery, cozy mystery, humor & satire, women sleuths
Publisher: McMurrow Press
Published: 2019-07-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Rika

Nick agreed to have the truck evidence, along with the glove he said he found at the crime scene, tested for fingerprints at a private lab before turning it over to the sheriff. But first, we had to take all the scraps of paper into Nick’s home office and make copies.

Being alone in this room with him felt more intimate than anywhere else in the house. Maybe because it was so masculine with its mahogany desk and dark leather couch. Or maybe it was because this was the one room I couldn’t imagine his wives spending time in.

The copying was taking longer than it normally would have, since the only gloves Nick could find in the house were the big rubber kind meant for cleaning toilets, not handling thin pieces of paper.

The scanner light flashed and Nick lifted the lid, then picked the receipt up carefully from the glass and laid it on the adjacent work table.

“Why the couch?” I asked.

“Huh?” He turned to look at me and I was captivated by his eye color de jour. The office lighting was brighter than the living room and he was wearing an army green t-shirt with a yellow logo, turning his eyes to a sea green with gold sprinkles I’d never noticed before.

They were mesmerizing.

At moments like this, it seemed especially strange that I lived in his house, shared meals with him, gazed into those eyes on a regular basis, but wasn’t supposed to touch him.

Oh. He was staring at me expectantly. I quickly rewound the conversation and picked up my train of thought. “You have a desk chair, two club chairs for guests or clients or whatever. Why do you need the couch back here?”

Nick glanced at where the couch sat against the same wall as the copy machine. “That’s my mulling couch.”

“Your mulling couch?”

“Yeah, whenever I need to mull something over, I lie on that couch.”

I tried to imagine him there. I’d never seen him in a reclining position. Would his hands be at his sides? On his stomach? Cushioning his head?

“Maybe I need a mulling couch,” I said.

He plucked another receipt from the baggie. “Tell you what, when all this is over, I’ll buy you one.” The statement stirred a strange mix of emotions. I kind of liked the idea of having something to remember Nick by. Something he bought just for me, even though the idea of having to remember him instead of seeing him every day made me a little sad. On the other hand, I didn’t want to be another woman in his life he needed to placate with presents, but still...

“What kind of couch do you think I’d like?” Silly. My mouth had taken over before my brain had a chance to shut it down. I was testing Nick like a teenage girl tests her boyfriend. A girl’s lawyer should not be expected to predict her taste in home furnishings.

“Hm...” Nick tilted his head as if trying to imagine. “I wonder what Harry Potter sits on?” he mused.

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