with police investigations is a good way to end up in prison. I’m sorry, man, but I’m the wrong guy for the job.”
Trish urged the men to sit at a small table. “Shut up and listen, Easy. It’s a lot more personal than you think. Remember Catherine St. Clair? She’s back in town.” She swished away to fetch coffee.
Easy gawked at his sister’s back. Catherine…his Catherine? Never Cat or Cathy or Cee-cee or Cate—Easy had nicknamed her Tinker Bell. Even after twelve years the sound of her name turned his insides hot and cold while an odd sensation ruffled below his diaphragm.
He knew she’d moved to Arizona. Years ago, he’d traced her address and phone number—he kept them locked away in a file cabinet. Sometimes the urge to call her or appear on her doorstep grew so strong it drove him a little bit crazy. Only the still-tender shreds of his broken heart kept him from following through.
Annoyed at the way old emotions sneaked up on him, Easy cleared his throat. “How do you know Catherine?”
“I don’t,” John said. “I know the man she’s dating. His name is Jeffrey Livman. He was my sister’s husband, the man she loved. He murdered her.” He smoothed a hand over the side of his fine hair and dragged in a long, shaky breath. His voice firmed up, seething with well-nourished rage. “Jeffrey didn’t wait a full month after Roberta died before he began dating Miss St. Clair.”
Trish returned with a red plastic tray holding three cups of coffee. “I freaked when John showed me the pictures he took of Catherine with Jeffrey. I haven’t seen her since high school when you guys broke up and she moved away.”
His Catherine…“You said the cops don’t think it’s murder. What am I supposed to do?”
“You better figure out something,” Trish said. “John and I are convinced Jeffrey is going to marry Catherine so he can murder her, too.”
“WILL YOU MARRY ME, Catherine?”
Catherine St. Clair nearly choked on a spoonful of raspberry sorbet. Momentarily frightened by the sensation of her throat filled with shards of crystalline ice, she swallowed hard and followed it with a gulp of water.
Jeffrey patted between her shoulder blades. “Did I startle you? I’m sorry.”
She dabbed at her lips with a napkin and cast him a look askance. “Don’t make jokes when I have my mouth full.”
“I’m serious. I love you and want you to be my wife. We’re the perfect couple, honey. Together we’ll conquer the world.”
She searched for any hint of laughter in his pale blue eyes. He was serious.
She shifted on the seat and glanced nervously around the restaurant. She and Jeffrey dined often at the Grape and Olive, and always took the back corner booth. The few other diners didn’t pay her and Jeffrey any attention. “I’m flattered, but we barely know each other.”
He shook a finger at her. “You said we were soul mates.”
“I meant because of the house.” Five months ago she’d hired Jeffrey, a real-estate broker, to help her find a house to buy. He’d found the perfect property for her—a charming raised rancher, with fixer-upper potential, on ten acres in Black Forest—as if he’d magically conjured her dream into reality. Since it had been a cash sale, she’d closed quickly on the deal. To celebrate, Jeffrey had taken her to dinner. They’d been dating ever since.
She admired his energy and assertiveness. He liked being in control of any situation. In small doses his domineering personality suited her, acting as a foil for her withdrawing nature. He loved the outdoors as much as she. He was brilliant when it came to finances, so she often sought his advice about investments. They had fun together.
But marriage?
“I love you, Catherine, truly, madly, deeply. And—” He reached inside his jacket and brought out a velvetcovered box. “I am more serious about you than I’ve ever been about anything, or anyone, in my entire life.” He opened the box. Jewels glittered in the candlelight.
An elaborate gold setting contained a large blue sapphire nestled inside a double circle of diamonds. Her breath caught in her throat. She clutched her hands into fists, wanting to touch the ring, but not daring.
“I had this custom-made to match your eyes.” He inched the box closer to her, urging her to touch it. “Please, darling, do me the honor of being my wife.”
Gus Neci, the restaurant owner, approached the corner booth. Catherine sat in stunned silence while Jeffrey leaned forward, his handsome face alit with eager anticipation.
“Everything is well, yes?” Gus asked. He wheeled a small cart next to the table. Atop a white linen cloth, a silver ice bucket chilled a bottle of champagne. Two slender flutes gleamed in the candlelight. A bouquet of red roses, wrapped in silvery paper, rested next to the ice bucket.
Flustered, she shoved another spoonful of sorbet in her mouth. Jeffrey had obviously planned the proposal down to the smallest detail. Annoyance tightened her forehead and chest. He had no right to spring this kind of surprise on her. “Everything is fine, Gus, thank you.”
Neither man reacted to her icy tone. Jeffrey displayed the ring for Gus’s admiration. With a grand flourish, Gus presented Catherine with the roses. She forced herself to accept them. She managed a gracious smile, but inside she seethed. While Gus opened the champagne, she whispered, “I haven’t said yes, Jeffrey.”
“You can’t say no.” He pulled the ring from the box and reached for her left hand.
She twisted on the seat and fussed with the roses. Jeffrey managed to snag her pinkie finger. In the midst of the ridiculous tug-and-pull match that ensued, Gus set the champagne flutes on the table.
“A toast to the happy couple! May you live happily ever after.”
Catherine snatched her hand free. She struck a champagne flute and set it flying. She lifted a stricken gaze to the restaurant owner. “I’m so sorry!”
Gus snapped his fingers for the busboy. “You must be shivering with joy. Such a handsome couple you are. Both so blond and all-American. You are every person’s dream, yes?” He whipped a napkin from his back pocket and began mopping up the spilled champagne.
Jeffrey offered his champagne to her. “We’re like Romeo and Juliet.”
“They died,” she said darkly. Not only was Jeffrey the only friend she’d made since moving back to Colorado, he was the first man she’d met in years with whom she felt comfortable. If she refused to marry him, he might break off the relationship altogether.
“I have to go home,” she announced and tossed the napkin on the table. “Gus, the fettuccine was superb and do tell the chef the sorbet is excellent. Thank you.”
“Catherine, wait—”
“I’m sorry, I have an early morning appointment. I’ll call you, okay?” She grabbed her purse and scooted out of the booth. Her gauze skirt tangled around her thighs and for a moment she feared falling flat on her face.
Jeffrey’s pale eyes turned flinty in the flickering candlelight. “The champagne.
