Page 25 of Blood Moon

“Oh, like we’d go unnoticed there.” He paused, then said, “Listen, by the time we drive around looking for a place, we could be at mine. No one will bother us there, or even see us there, because nobody but my best friend knows where I live. After we talk, I’ll drive you anywhere you want to go. Okay? Daylight’s burning.”

She was still hesitant, but she had agreed.

And now here they were in his kitchen, which was so narrow there was barely enough room for one person, much less for two who’d somehow come to be standing face-to-face in the confining space.

She looked at a loss.

He looked at her.

Neither moved until Mutt scratched on the back door.

John stepped aside and pointed. “Living room is through there.” She turned and made her way in that direction.

He went to the back door and let Mutt in. He snatched his reward kibble from John’s fingers, then headed straight for the living room in a frisky trot that John had never seen him exercise before.

“He must’ve noticed her ass, too,” he muttered as he took two bottles of water from the fridge and kneed the contrary door shut.

In the living room, Mutt was lying on the floor at Beth’s feet where she was seated in the easy chair. He wondered what she’d think if she knew that one of the grungy guys from the bar had been sitting there last night. Still looking ill at ease, she thanked John for the bottle of water he handed down to her.

He went over to the sofa, detached the holster from his belt at the small of his back, and set it on the coffee table. She must not have noticed him wearing it before now, because he caught her looking at the pistol with misgiving. However, she didn’t remark on it, so he didn’t acknowledge it, either.

He pulled his tie from beneath his collar, unbuttoned his cuffs, and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Made more comfortable, he settled back against the sofa cushions. “Before we start, I want to ask you a question, but don’t get your back up, all right?”

“Ask.”

“You seem convinced that another woman will go missing on the night of the blood moon come Thursday. Are you psychic? Do you read tarot cards? You’re a fortune teller?”

“My back is up.”

“Okay then, tell me what qualifies you to make a prediction like that?”

“Fair enough.” She took a deep breath. “For seven years, I’ve worked onCrisis Point, which, as you know, is a program that documents criminal cases.”

“I’m a faithful fan ofLaw & Order. But to become a detective, I had to earn a degree and then go to the police academy.”

She frowned over his sarcasm. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

“You have the floor.”

She took another deep breath, which he really wished she would stop doing. Each time she did, he couldn’t help but notice the rise and fall of those more than just “nice,” actually oh-so-sweet breasts. They challenged his effort to stay focused.

She was saying, “I was hired by the network to work onCrisis Point. My first position was that of gofer. Within a year, I was promoted to fact checker. Everyone involved in the production process relies on fact checkers. The title defines the job.”

“You made sure everything was correct.”

“Yes. It could be something as minor as the spelling of someone’s name, or a major discrepancy that required further investigation. I wasn’t the only one, of course. At any given time, several are working on a project.”

“You were the best, though. Right? You advanced.”

“Well—”

“Come on now. No false modesty. Who is Mr. Max Longren and just what all do you do for him?”

Chapter 7

How did you…” Then her eyes turned glaring. “You checked me out, didn’t you?” His shrug of admission ignited her further. “You talked to Max? About me?”

He raised his eyebrows. “It’s not Mr. Longren? It’sMax?”