Murder Makes Scents by Christin Brecher

Author:Christin Brecher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-01-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“Jeez,” Peter said, turning to pick up the salt shaker as Tinker licked up the spill. “You could blind a guy like that.”

“You should go home and get a good night’s sleep,” said Olive, who had stepped back inside the house with Peter. “All of us should.”

“We’ve got this,” said John Pierre, removing the tray from my hand.

“I’ll walk you home,” said Peter.

I suddenly felt that everyone wanted me out of the house, but I didn’t mind. I had a date with Agent Hill, and a lot to share with her. I let Laura pack me a bag of leftovers, and then I headed home.

Crossing the yard, both Tinker and Peter were true gentlemen. With Tinker riding on my shoulder, Peter took my leftovers and held my hand. I thought about the tension I’d perceived between us earlier today. There were things to be said, but before I could start, I yawned. It was out before I knew it.

“Long day,” we both said together. We looked at each other, then laughed.

“I should drive Olive back to town, don’t you think?” Peter said.

I nodded. Dinner had been nice, but now I felt like we were on a first date and not sure what to do with each other.

“Peter,” I said. “Can you do me a favor?”

I know. Asking a favor of Peter in the middle of a delicate moment in our relationship might seem like an unusual choice, but in that moment, I wanted nothing more than for him to join me, in any way, as I puzzled out the identity of Rex Laruam. I couldn’t give him details that would jeopardize national security. I’d promised Agent Hill I would not. I knew, however, that I’d feel stronger knowing he was somehow connected.

“Any time,” he said, his hands shoved into his pockets, his old smile returning.

And like that, I think we both knew we were on each other’s side, even if we didn’t know exactly what the other was up to.

I realized, however, that I wasn’t sure how to engage Peter.

I looked back at Chris’s house. The lights were still on in the kitchen, and I could see the Mortons at the table with my cousin for one last glass of wine. I considered the five suspects we knew. The Mortons, Olive, Nathaniel, and Lennie. I picked the Mortons. They were a two-for-one opportunity.

“Can you put on your reporter’s hat and do a little snooping on the Mortons? They seem nice, but don’t you think Chris should research people a little before letting them into his house?”

“That’s all?” he said, with a laugh. “you’ve got it.”

I might have been tired, but I was no fool. I pressed my lips against Peter for the kind of good-night kiss a couple of four months—and a couple of awkward days—deserves. I also felt better knowing that once Peter had a job, he’d follow all leads to the end. If there was anything fishy about the Mortons, he would figure it out.

After a reluctant

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