Chapters (40)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- About the Author
- Also by Linda Castillo
- Newsletter Sign-up
- Copyright
Tomasetti arches a brow.
I fill him in on the highlights. “Considering the marks left on those bones, I thought it might be worth a look around.”
“I agree.” He gives Skid a pointed look. “Might be a good idea to take someone with you.”
Skid clears his throat. “Sure, Chief, uh … just let me know and I’m there.”
We fall silent. Realizing that’s his cue to leave, Skid moves closer to the door. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks.”
He tips his head at Tomasetti and then he’s gone.
For the span of several seconds, I stare at the door, part of me wishing Skid hadn’t left so quickly.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such an egocentric son of a bitch,” he begins.
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You could tell me I’m off the hook, or maybe let me know I’m being a little hard on myself.” One side of his mouth curves into a smile. “Then we could go home and have makeup sex.”
I return his smile, but mine feels halfhearted. “I know this has been hard for you.”
“Harder for you, probably. I’m sorry.”
I nod and look down at the reports spread out on my desk, not really seeing them.
“How are you feeling?” I look at him, not sure if he’s referring to the shooting and ensuing accident last night or my pregnancy. Then he touches the place between his eyes to indicate the cut on the bridge of my nose.
“Better.” The tension that had crept into my shoulders begins to unravel. “I’ve been wearing my sunglasses.”
“For the record, you look good in purple.”
“Tomasetti, you’re full of shit.”
“You’re not the first person to tell me that.”
“Probably not the last, either.”
“Yeah.” Sighing, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I was in the area and I thought, if you have time, I’d take you to dinner.”
“In the area, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“You have pretty good timing, because I’m starving.”
“In that case, why don’t you close that file and shut down your computer? I know just the place.”
* * *
Two hours later Tomasetti and I are seated at Pier W, one of Cleveland’s most elegant and renowned restaurants. Cantilevered atop the cliffs in Lakewood, west of the city, the restaurant offers a stunning view of a brooding Lake Erie and the skyline to the east.