Nari sat at her kitchen table finishing off surprisingly good scrambled eggs after having showered and thrown on jeans and a light sweater for the day. Roscoe was flopped across her feet, begging with big brown eyes for another piece of bacon. The TV droned in the background, turned to the news so they could learn whether another body had been found. If not, this was the first morning the killer hadn’t left one. She focused on her nearly clean plate. “You can cook. Really cook.”

Angus shrugged, standing to put his dish in the sink. “Yeah. I guess. My sister taught me. She was amazing.”

Nari sipped her coffee. Should she ignore the opening and keep the morning peaceful? “You don’t talk about her. What was she like?” Nope. Curiosity was her bane, as usual.

Angus poured himself another cup and leaned back against the counter, looking delicious with just his jeans on. That bare chest should be admired daily. “She was sweet and smart. It was just the two of us for so long after our folks died. When she was gone the world just got dimmer.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Nari took another drink, kind of missing the whipped cream Wolfe always insisted on adding to any caffeinated beverage. “She looked like you. From what I saw of the picture you had.” The picture that had now been burned. “I hope you have more photos.”

“I usually just use that one for the murder board,” he said absently.

She sat up. “You don’t have any other pictures of the two of you? Of good times?”

“Somewhere in a box.” He downed the entire cup, not meeting her eyes.

She shook her head. “Angus, you have to let go of the anger and try to live again.”

“Don’t shrink me.” He rinsed the cup, seeming miles away.

“Wouldn’t ever want to shrink you,” she retorted, getting the grin from him she’d hoped to see. Okay. Fair enough. She wasn’t his girlfriend or his shrink, so she didn’t have the right to get into his head.

He pulled out her spice drawer. “You should probably work on yourself instead of me.”

“What?” She stood and carried her dish to the sink.

He pointed. “You’re obsessive. These are lined up by color and name, not to mention brand. Talk about a control freak.”

She reached around him and slammed the door closed. “I like to be organized. You’re the control freak.”

“Huh.” He looked around the kitchen. “I don’t think so.”

One of the boxes on the counter buzzed.

Nari winced and grabbed for the box, yanking out the new phone. “This one is mine. The other is yours.”

He reached for his box and opened it.

“Hello,” Nari said. It was a good thing the phone was the same model as the one she’d lost.