Page 43 of Zero Divergence
“About what?”
Royce took another sip of coffee before answering. “The conversation I just had with Levi.”
“What was that all about, anyway? Since when did the two of you become confidantes?”
“I’m the one who set him up with Diego, and I’m the one he’s going to blame if things don’t go well,” Royce said.
“They broke up?”
“I don’t know if they are officially a couple,” Royce replied. “I just know things aren’t going the way Levi would like them to.”
“How?”
Royce chewed his bottom lip while debating what to say. He promised Levi he wouldn’t share their conversation with Diego, and he knew Sawyer wouldn’t betray his confidence. “I think Levi wants to climb Diego like a tree but is waiting for Diego to make the first move. So far, that hasn’t happened.”
“You mean they haven’t had sex yet?” Sawyer asked in disbelief.
Royce nodded. “Levi thinks Diego isn’t interested in him like that but won’t call things off out of fear he’ll piss me off.”
“No way,” Sawyer said. “We saw the way Diego looks at Levi.”
“Like he was holding the moon and stars in the palm of his hand,” Royce absently said while looking out the window.
“I was going to say like a piece of double chocolate cake, but we can go with moon and stars, Romeo.”
Royce snickered. “It’s all your fault. I was perfectly fine with being a closeted romantic curmudgeon.”
“I’ll gladly take credit for enticing you out of the closet and revealing all the amazing facets of your personality,” Sawyer said. “What did you tell Levi?”
“I told him to take the bull by the horns and make his move,” Royce said. “I don’t know why Diego is hesitating. Maybe he’s misreading the signals Levi is putting out. It’s a real shame they’re wasting precious time.”
“We’re not getting involved,” Sawyer said resolutely.
Royce snorted. “I never said we were,” he said, even as his mind was rolling through fix-it possibilities.
Sawyer shook his head. “You’re formulating a plan. I can feel it.”
“Am not,” Royce lied, deciding a double date soon might be just the thing to prod the knuckleheads in the right direction.
They didn’t have to wait long for Bill Elderwood to answer the door wearing a sweaty tank top and damp gym shorts. His white hair was soaked and plastered to his head and sweat ran down his tanned face. The man was probably in his late sixties but had the physique of someone much younger. His brow furrowed into a deep V over shrewd, icy blue eyes when recognition dawned on him.
“I apologize for my appearance, but I wasn’t expecting Savannah’s finest at my door before seven in the morning,” Elderwood said, wiping his face with the towel he’d slung around his neck.
Royce and Sawyer had discussed who would do the majority of the talking before exiting the car. Sawyer hadn’t topped the shit list at Elderwood’s firmyet, so Royce thought it would be best if he made the notification while Royce observed, at least until they saw how the attorney reacted to Royce’s presence.
“We’re sorry to interrupt your workout, sir, but in light of the circumstances, we needed to contact you now rather than wait until business hours,” Sawyer said.
“Circumstances? What happened?” the older man asked. His body went rigid, and it was apparent he was bracing himself for the worst.
Sawyer was as compassionate as the situation allowed when he broke the news to Elderwood about Gross’s homicide. A stunned look washed over the man’s face, dimming the brilliance in his eyes as if Sawyer had extinguished his spark.
“No, there has to be some mistake,” Elderwood finally said emphatically. “Vivian cannot be dead.”
“I’m afraid she is, sir,” Royce replied.
“How? When?”
“Her tenant found her body early this morning after returning home from a weekend away,” Sawyer said. “The ME estimates she died within the last twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”