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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Teague didn’t make it to my place until long after dinner. But not too late for other matters.

His shoulder provided a pillow for my head, his chest a resting spot for my hand, with his hand covering it. Not only my hand, but all through me, I experienced the rhythm of his heartbeat, the normalcy of his breathing.

“Do you know why Derrick’s family opted for him to receive hospice care at Kentucky Manor, rather than at home?”

He spurted a chuckle that fizzed through my nerves. “And here I was thinking you were enjoying this quiet moment of romance.”

“I am enjoying this quiet moment of romance. A lot. Doesn’t mean my brain turns off completely.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge to find a way to turn your brain off completely... again?”

With exaggerated prissiness, I said, “Not at this time, though you can certainly try later.”

“That’s a date.”

I dropped the prissiness. “It’s also not an out I’ll accept instead of an answer.”

“What I know about Derrick Dorrio going to Kentucky Manor hospice, rather than receiving hospice care at home — his family’s home, since his home was the penitentiary.

” He said all that with the air of a grade-schooler introducing a class report.

“They had the option, including two other facilities in the area. They chose that one. The end.”

“By they , do you mean his parents and son and wife together? Or do you mean Dova made the decision?”

Nothing so dramatic as his heart skipping a beat under my hand or a catch in his breath, but I was getting to know him quite well and I picked up that he was interested. What I didn’t know was if that was because of the answer or solely because the question intrigued him.

“Not something I’m at liberty to say.”

Which didn’t get me any closer to resolving what I didn’t know about the cause of his subtle reaction, much less the answer to my question.

“That could be interesting to know.”

“Yes, it could. As could why you asked,” he said.

“Oh, something that occurred to me after conversations today.”

“With Rose Gleiner?”

“Maybe,” I said while absorbing that he knew we’d talked to her, but not what she’d said — more accurately what she hadn’t said.

“Are you going to share?”

I sat up and glowered at him, only half meaning it. “Oh, c’mon, Teague, you expect me to spill after you just put up a solid brick wall?”

“That was the deal. Alternatively, I could make it much more difficult to talk to anybody.” He only half meant that threat.

“Not fair. Especially since Rose Gleiner probably told the sheriff’s department a lot. After all, she’s the one who started the ball rolling to get you guys involved and she’s connected to the assistant coroner who called you in, not to mention striking me as a real law and order type.”

“ Dun-Dun, ” he chanted in a representation of the familiar two-note bridge for Law & Order scenes.

I frowned at him to keep from grinning. “In other words, no, I’m not sharing what she said. Not—”

I held up my index finger in a wait-for-it command.

His eyebrows went up, inviting me to finish.

“—until Clara and I explain the whole solution to you.”

I will not detail what followed, except to say he dove for me, it involved tickling, Gracie barking, Murphy galumphing around wanting in on the action... which eventually led to activity that left both Teague and me feeling satisfyingly brainless. Also boneless.