Page 119 of Head Room

But I could think of others I’d encountered who matched Nola’s description.

“When they believe the person or persons they’re trying to fool accepted their lie or lies, they’re gratified at getting away with it.Can be combined with eye-blocking.That can be literal — covering them with a hand or an object — or closing the eyes, so the eyelids are the block.”

“Is that the only reason you’re not interested in him?Not that it’s not a good one,” I added.A duper wouldn’t be high on my list, even if my list hadn’t whittled down to one.

She shrugged.“No chemistry?”

“I wondered if it had anything to do with Kam Droemi.”

“Who?”

“Works at the fire department.Runs the office.”

“Oh, right.Not real friendly.”

“I suspect that’s possessiveness over Miles.”

“One time I heard them snapping at each other — well, mostly her snapping at him.I suppose it could have been possessiveness.Why anyone thinks that will hold onto somebody...”

I remembered their overheard exchange before I could see them in the fire department.Kam’s aggrieved voice, fragments about names and something about too many.

Nola was right.

My phone rang.

I held up a finger to Nola.

She shook her head.“I gotta go anyway.Early assignment.”

I nodded my understanding as I answered the call from Kit.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

“Hi, Kit.Giveme a second, I’m heading outside.Or do you want me to call you back?”

“I’ll wait.”

From sounds coming through the phone, she filled in the time by doing things in her kitchen.I thought cleanup.Until I was getting into my SUV and heard ice cubes clanking into one glass, then a second.

“You have plans, Kit?”

Impervious to teasing, she said, “A little later.My friend likes his drink well cooled.This way we don’t waste time after he gets here.”

By my calculations, it was nearly eleven o’clock where she was.Not absolute proof, but suggestive of what plans she and her friend had.

“Okay.I won’t waste time, either,” I said.“Tell me you have something brilliant that will answer all my questions.”

She snorted and asked a question, rather than answering.“You said this manuscript’s writer is dead?”

“Yes.Last fall.”

“Natural causes?”

Unexpectedly I had to bite the inside of my cheeks.Not the question most people would ask.On the other hand, I had told her I’d pursued investigations of a number of murders.Plus, the question fit Kit perfectly.

“Yes, natural causes.”

“Too bad.Not the natural causes.That she died.This manuscript has promise.It’s not complete, of course, but the characters draw you in.You have questions?”