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Watson padded up to inspect the breakfast tray. Ellery pushed him back with a stern whisper. “You know better.” He mouthed,At least,wait until he’s gone.

Watson wagged his tail, offered his best puppy eyes.

Kind of disheartening to think his dog was a better actor than he was.

“Oh for—!” Jack clipped out, “On my way,” and clicked off. He gazed at Ellery with resignation. “Domestic disturbance.”

“Argh,” Ellery said. Or similar sounds of despair and disappointment. “And thechief of policehas to settle it?”

“They’re asking for me.”

“Who is?”

Jack hesitated, admitted, “The Crawfords.”

“The—” Ellery broke off, staring. “Bess and Abel Crawford? They’re like a hundred years old!”

“He is. She’s one hundred and two.”

“And they still haven’t figured out how to get along?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Jack made a face. “Except I’m sorry. I was looking forward to having the morning together.”

Ellery let out a long, measured breath. He had known going into this relationship that there were challenges dating a cop. He was determined to always be supportive and patient. Besides, he expected Jack to be understanding about his little amateur sleuthing hobby. The least he could do was be understanding about Jack’s actual job.

“That’s okay. There’ll be other mornings.” He winked. “And nights.”

To his surprise, Jack groaned again.

Ellery laughed. “I’m starting to think you need a vacation.”

“I need a…” Jack swallowed the rest of it.

“Back rub? Steak dinner? Stiff drink? Come back tonight, and I’ll provide all three.”

Jack shook his head, though he wasn’t declining the invitation because he muttered, “I’m definitely coming back tonight.”

Ellery reached for him. “Sounds good. Until then, how about a kiss goodbye?”

* * * * *

Nora and Kingston were hanging old-fashioned paper jack-o’-lantern garlands and bickering amiably when Ellery and Watson arrived at the Crow’s Nest just before lunchtime.

“Those look great. Where’d you find them?”

“They were in the cellar,” Nora informed him. “In the box you markedDecorations.”

“Oh. Right.” Those first few weeks of shoveling out the bookshop from years of Great-great-great-aunt Eudora’s hoarding were a blur of dust, cobwebs, and disintegrating paperbacks. “Better late than never. How did Saturday Storytime go?”

“Very well,” Nora said. “Kingston readIn a Dark, Dark Woodby David A. Carter. In honor of Halloween.”

“Good choice.” Frankly, Ellery had never heard of three-quarters of the books Kingston chose for Saturday Storytime, but that was a title he could remember his mother reading to him when he’d been very young.

“The children loved it.” Nora smiled at Kingston.

Kingston smiled at Nora.

“I’m going to check my email,” Ellery said.