Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(36)

Nick leaned closer and whispered, “We could always have dinner at my place. I’ve been told I make a decent chili, and my biscuits are pretty amazing, too.” The disc slipped from my fingers. I scrambled to catch it as it clattered toward the edge of the table. His hand caught mine as it closed around the runaway game piece. “It’s just dinner.” His eyes fell to my mouth as he slowly let go.

Just dinner. I could do that. Only to get an update on the arson investigation.

“Okay,” I said.

His eyebrows shot up as I slipped the token in the rack. “So that’s a yes?”

“Yes. But maybe we should skip the chili and try the restaurant instead.” The last thing I needed was to be tempted by his biscuits.

“Then it’s a date … I mean … definitely not a date.” He held up his hands, the picture of innocence as he dropped a final token into the frame, connecting a line of four. He took a last long sip from his mug as he stood, setting it in the sink on his way out of the kitchen. “Thanks for the coffee, Vero!” he called from the foyer.

“Anytime, Detective,” she sang back.

“Thank god,” Joey whispered in my ear as he reached for his jacket. “The guy’s been insufferable. If you didn’t say yes, I was going to have to shoot him.” He slipped a toothpick between his teeth and winked at me as he opened the door.

“You’re leaving?” Delia cried out, scrambling down the stairs as Nick shrugged on his coat.

“Gotta go, Dee, but thanks for the game.” She wrapped herself like an octopus around his legs. “Keep practicing. I’ll be back in a few days for a rematch.” He scooped her up and planted a kiss on her head. I’m pretty sure confetti exploded from my ovaries as he set her gently on her feet. “I’ll pick you up at six,” he told me on his way out.

“Wait,” I said, running to catch him on the front stoop. “What should I wear?”

His grin was little wicked. “Surprise me.”

My breath rushed out of me as he ducked into Joey’s car.

I was full of far too many surprises. And I was certain they weren’t the kind Nick was hoping for.



* * *



I was still staring at the game board when Vero wandered into the kitchen.

“Fantasizing about your hot date?” she asked.

“It’s not a date.”

“Sure, it’s not,” she teased, rinsing Nick’s mug and setting it in the dishwasher. “How did things go with Bree?”

I slumped in a chair, taking a cautious sip of the coffee I’d left on the counter that morning. “I’m pretty sure she’s not FedUp; she’s still in love with Steven.” Vero stuck a finger in her mouth and made a gagging noise. “But she did mention something suspicious. She said Steven ordered the security system before all this business with Feliks. Apparently, some woman had been harassing him, calling his cell phone and making demands.”

“Did Bree have any idea who it was?”

“No, but she said the calls were frequent. She said they started over the summer and got worse through the fall. She said Steven ordered the security system in the early part of October. If we can get our hands on his mobile and look through his call history, maybe we can figure out which number belongs to this mystery woman.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

I drew my finger through the Pop-Tart crumbs on the table as I considered that. “The same way we sneak things away from the kids—we use a distraction.”





CHAPTER 18


An hour later, Vero and I stared at the mess we’d made on the kitchen floor. The cabinet doors under the kitchen sink had been flung wide, all the chemicals, detergents, and cleaning supplies removed and displayed across the countertop. A puddle spread from the bottom of the cabinet, dripping over the lip onto the floor where an artfully arranged landscape of bath towels had been scattered to collect it.

Vero squatted to inspect the pipe fitting I’d loosened. “Who would have thought a plumbing wrench could be so handy?”

A truck door slammed outside. I thrust the wrench into Vero’s hands. “Steven’s here. Hide this somewhere. I’ll keep him distracted in the kitchen. You take his phone and see what you can find.”

I took my time unlocking the front door. Steven stepped inside, carrying a leather tote bag of tools. “I can’t stay long. I’ve got a meeting in an hour,” he said, toeing off a pair of muddy work boots.

“It’s probably just a leak. Thanks for coming.” I stole a glance at his jeans as he shrugged off his coat. No obvious bulges in the pockets. His phone was probably inside his jacket. “You didn’t have to bring your tools. I’ve got a few here if you want to go check out the garage.”

When I looked up, Steven was smirking, as if he’d caught me peeking at his jeans. “If you had the tools you needed here, Finn, you wouldn’t have called me.” He rolled up his sleeves and carried his bag to the kitchen. Vero was waiting inside, her hip cocked against the stove, arms crossed and jaw already set to fight.

“Hello, Steven.”

“Vero.” He spared her a cool glance as he set his tools on a dry patch of floor beside the open cabinet. Flipping on a flashlight, he ducked to look inside. I signaled to Vero over his head, pointing behind me to the coatrack. She nodded. Steven’s voice came from under the sink. “I can already see the problem, Finn. Just a couple of loose fittings.”