Page 16 of Southernmost Murder

Jun glanced from side to side, likely confirming there were no gawking tourists in the vicinity, before he took my hands and pulled me closer. “I do both,” he confirmed.

“Yeah? My jeans just got a little tighter.”

Jun’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he laughed. “You know what other skill I have on my résumé?”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve been known, on more than one occasion, to take scary bugs out of the house.”

“Oh shit, you’d best propose to me now, because you’re not going anywhere,” I said, laughing loud.

Jun kissed my forehead.

“So how about it, Mr. FBI? Want to be my better half?”

Like I said, Jun’s pretty quiet. It was kind of cute, because I’ve seen him in official G-man mode. He was a badass straight out of a Hollywood movie. And flirting? No trouble there, and no issue with PDA either. But actual conversations? It wasn’t really his thing. If I waited for him to ask me out, we’d be here until I was eighty.

But I wasn’t joking in regard to a guy who cared about my feelings. My last boyfriend—Matt O’Sullivan—had given so few fucks, we were in the negatives by the time I split. I hadn’t realized until I was a thousand miles away the toll my self-esteem had taken from that relationship. But Jun gave a crap. He gave many craps. And that was the kind of man you brought home to Ma and Pa.

“I’d like that,” Jun said.

“Goodie! Now I have a legitimate excuse to show you my piercings.”

“Piercings?”

I made a satisfied noise and let go of him. “Come on. You wanted to see the house.”

“That was before I knew you had piercings.”

“Yup.” God, I was such a little shit sometimes.

“Plural?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Like, where?”

I hiked up the porch stairs and opened the door. “I guess you’ll have to do a thorough inspection.”

Herb was giving his not-so-impressive spiel to a group of visitors when we stepped inside. I waved at him to continue and quietly led Jun up the first set of stairs. We passed by the master bedroom and children’s rooms on the second floor before going up the next staircase. The third floor was quiet and empty, which was typical. Tourists never stayed long up here, despite the captain’s study being one of the more exciting displays, in my humble opinion.

“Impressive home,” Jun said as he reached the landing.

“Thanks. I’ve put more time and effort into this house than any place I’ve ever actually lived in.” I motioned him over to the closet in question. “So, this is it.”

Jun stared at the door, back at the stairs, and then the door again. “Do you mind opening it?”

I nodded and popped the eyehook. It was still empty inside.

I admit a small—very small—part of me wanted Skelly to be there again, if for nothing more than to prove I hadn’t briefly gone insane that morning. I pointed to the wall at the back. “He was in there.”

Jun took a step into the closet. He pulled out his cell phone and turned on the flashlight, looking around.

“Whole lot of nothing, am I right?”

“Yes.”

I grunted and cautiously squeezed in beside him. “I’d been peeling old wallpaper and found this lever,” I explained, tugging up some of the paper to show Jun. “And the false wall gave way and Skelly fell out.”