“I need to call the police.” She spoke to Monty, who slept at the foot of her bed. He picked up his head, yawned and put his head back on his paws, his eyes following her movement around the room.
“But why didn’t Matthew? All he had to do was tell them what happened.” She looked at Monty for agreement. She took his steady gaze and lack of opposition as a sign she was right. “And why was someone after him?”
She tried to run her hands through her hair but a rubber band stopped her. She growled at the sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair sat in a crooked ponytail on top of her head. The bruise on her cheek stood out against her pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes reminded her of what a shitty day it had been so far. And in the wee hours of the morning, the next day didn’t seem to be starting off any better.
“Why? Why? Why?” she ranted.
She wanted to ask “why me”, but this wasn’t about her. It was about her dead ex-brother-in-law and his shit-for-brains twin. Three years after their divorce, Matthew still managed to insert himself in her life and make himself the focal point.
What was going on—and why?
“Can’t think straight.” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. “Need caffeine,” she told Monty
Elyse stuffed her feet into her slippers and went to the kitchen to make coffee. She slammed through cabinet after cabinet until she found her shopping list on the front of the fridge, coffee number one on the lined sheet. Once she declared the house devoid of any form of caffeine, she grabbed her keys and an overcoat. She headed out of the house at three in the morning.
“I’ll be back in a bit, Monty,” she called from the front door.
≈ ≈ ≈ ≈
Jack looked over the freshly made pastries lining the case at Dunkin Donuts, but his thoughts, as they had since earlier that day, turned back to Elyse Cabot. In his mind’s eye, he could still see the haunted look in her eye at the funeral. He remembered how his stomach had lurched when she fainted. He still wanted to kick himself for not catching her before her face smashed onto the hard cemetery ground, marring her creamy skin.
The bell on the door clanged, awakening him from the memory. He didn’t turn to see who had come in, but continued to stare blindly at the display case.
“A large French vanilla coffee, a pound of ground hazelnut and the usual,” a woman said from behind him.
Jack stood up from his crouch. Now he imagined the woman sounded like Elyse.
“I was sorry to hear about your ex, Mrs. Cabot,” the young clerk said.
“Thanks, Kevin,” she answered.
Jack turned to find Elyse Cabot in the flesh. Her hair pulled up in a lopsided ponytail, she stood in front of the register. She wore an overcoat and what looked like flannel pajama pants. On her feet, he found a pair of those clomping shoes all the women wore. His eyes traveled slowly back up. He’d watched her throughout the funeral, but for some reason seeing her in the middle of the night, dressed in PJs made his gut tighten worse.
“That’s a nasty bruise you got there,” Kevin said.
Her hand touched the spot on her cheek. “I…uh, had a fall.”
Kevin must have noticed Jack staring at the two because he looked at him and asked, “Did you decide yet, Jack?”
Jack shook his head as Elyse turned and looked at him. Her eyes widened for a brief moment.
“Hi, Elyse.”
“Jack. What are you doing here?”
“Buying donuts,” Jack tried to keep the amusement out of his voice.
She opened her mouth to speak but Kevin interrupted, “I’ll get your coffee, Mrs. Cabot.” Then he disappeared into the rear of the shop, leaving them alone at the counter.
Elyse nodded at the young clerk’s departing back then narrowed her eyes at Jack. She lowered her voice, “No, I mean here in my neighborhood.”
“I live just around the corner on Fox Chase.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when you dropped me off?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Elyse rolled her eyes.
“I’d ask if you come here often, but that sounds like a line.” Jack smiled, but still she only looked at him. The dark circles under her eyes stood out in dramatic relief against her pale skin. “Trouble sleeping?”
“No, I like to roam around the neighborhood in the middle of the night. My nocturnal side.” She finally twisted her mouth into a lopsided wan grin.
The sarcasm in her voice was so thick Jack couldn’t help but laugh.
“You?” she asked dryly, apparently not enjoying her own humor.
“I always stop in after a long stakeout.”
“Stakeout?” Her perfectly arched eyebrows pulled together. “Oh, that’s right you said you were a detective.”
“I prefer the term private investigator,” Jack said.
She nodded and looked down at her hands.
His chest ached when he got a good look at the knot on her cheek. He rubbed the spot and although he’d like to say it was indigestion, he knew it wasn’t. It killed him to see her beautiful face with such an ugly bruise. The purple welt looked darker and more swollen than earlier that day. Reaching out, he ran his finger under the edge of her cheek. “Does it hurt?”
Elyse’s eyes snapped to his. Realizing he still touched her, he pulled his hand back and cleared his throat. “Did you go see a doctor?”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but…” she paused.
“But…” he prompted her.
“But I don’t really think it’s any business of yours.”
Jack started to say he wanted to make it his business, but Kevin returned with Elyse’s order, not giving him a chance. She paid and left without saying another word.
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