expression was neutral, but Alicia saw the irritation in his blue eyes. She shook her head. “No, not tonight. I’ve got a lot of work to sort through. You two go have fun. We can talk tomorrow.”
Cissy’s lips tightened to a thin line and Alicia could see the family resemblance between her and her uncle. But she didn’t argue, following Gabe to the front door.
“I’ll call you if we don’t get back too late,” Cissy told Alicia firmly. “This isn’t over.”
Alicia closed the door behind them, locking up. She remained by the door a moment, surprised by how empty and large the apartment seemed now that her visitors had left.
Gabe Cooper sure knew how to fill a room with his presence.
She crossed to the sofa and plopped down in the space Gabe had just vacated. The cushion was still warm, and maybe she was just imagining it, but she thought she detected a whiff of testosterone lingering in the air.
She laughed aloud, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. Man, she needed to get out more.
Her laughter faltered a few seconds later, when she heard a furtive scrape coming from the porch outside.
Instantly tense, she grabbed her discarded jacket from the coat tree by the door and pulled the vial of pepper spray from the pocket. It seemed grossly inadequate, but her aluminum bat was in the bedroom, too far away.
There was a window by the front door, which would give her a clear view of the porch, but she couldn’t talk herself into moving the curtains aside and taking a look. She settled for the peephole in the door and its fish-eyed view. She saw no sign of movement outside.
And yet, she heard another set of creaking noises, as if someone was walking around on the wooden porch outside.
Stop it, she told herself, backing away from the door. This isn’t some isolated warehouse and you’re not really alone.
But she held on to the pepper spray anyway.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW RUDE you were.” Cissy kept her voice low, glancing around the restaurant as if she thought her half-whispered rebuke might cause a scene.
Gabe felt a hint of guilt, but it was eclipsed by annoyance at his niece and, more to the point, the pretty little egghead who’d stirred up Cissy’s emotions about her mother’s murder. “I prefer to call it direct,” he answered tightly.
“Call it whatever you want. It was still uncalled for.”
“Know what else is uncalled for? Dragging someone across the state on false pretenses.” Gabe gave Cissy a pointed look.
“They weren’t false. They were…incomplete.”
Gabe fiddled with the salad fork lying beside his water glass. “Victor Logan killed your mother.” Even as he spoke the words aloud, doubt nagged at him, making the back of his neck prickle with unease.
“You don’t sound as convinced here as you did back at Alicia’s place,” Cissy murmured.
“You haven’t mentioned any of this to your dad, have you?”
Cissy looked horrified. “No! I’m not going to him with anything less than hard evidence. He’s been through enough pain over the years trying to find Mom’s killer.”
“So you called me instead.” Not that Cissy could understand just how hard the roller coaster of false leads and dashed hopes had been on him, too. She didn’t know just how intimately he was involved in the disaster of that night, how much blame he had earned with his selfish thoughtlessness.
“You’ve been there for my brother and me, as much as anyone. I knew you’d come if I called.” Cissy looked across the table at him, her expression softening. “I trust your judgment about this particular topic.”
“Except when I disagree with your theories,” he added with an indulgent smile.
She grinned. “Exactly.”
The waitress arrived to take their orders. Cissy had chosen one of the higher-end restaurants in town, although in a place like Millbridge, Alabama, high-end was relative. A snowy linen tablecloth covered the small window-side table where they sat, their seats overlooking a moonlit garden partially obscured by their reflection bouncing back at them on the picture window. The flatware was stainless steel, but clean and shiny, free of nicks and stains.
At least the menu was unpretentious. Home cooking, plenty of options. Gabe selected a steak and vegetable plate, though he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry at the moment, thanks to Cissy’s ambush.
Cissy ordered cheese fries.
“As the apparent stand-in for your father, I have to tell you that cheese fries are almost completely lacking in nutritional value,” he said after the waitress departed.
“Cheese has protein,” she defended. “Besides, I’m feeling strangely in need of comfort food.”
Reaching across the table, he patted her hand. “That’s my fault, isn’t it?”
Her brow wrinkled. “Not everything’s your fault, you know.”
But it was, he thought. More than she realized. “You want to go back there tonight?” he asked. “Finish what we started?”
“Yes,” she answered simply.
“What do you know about this Alicia person, anyway? What’s her deal?”
Cissy gave him an odd look. “Her deal?”
“What made her decide to look into cold cases in the first place?”
“I don’t know, exactly. She was already working on her thesis when I took my first lab with her.”
“What kind of labs does she teach?” When Gabe had been in school, the labs he’d attended were usually limited to either the hard sciences or language classes. Of course, he had pretty much avoided the social sciences like the plague. His major had been marine biology, with a focus on freshwater ecosystems. Gave him a head start on figuring out where to find the bass when he was fishing a tournament.
“She’s helping the head of the psychology department develop research labs for criminal investigations. For instance, she and another grad student, Marlon, are spending a lot of their time working up a set of protocols to quantify the likelihood of a violence-prone individual to escalate to sadistic murder.”
Gabe grimaced. “Tell me you’re not helping with that one.”
“I’m not. You have to be a senior or a grad student to participate.” The waitress arrived with Cissy’s cheese fries, assuring Gabe his steak was on the way. Gabe took notice of her this time. She was tall, on the curvy side, with a wide, smiling mouth and eyes the color of dark chocolate. She didn’t look like Brenda, but there was something about her that reminded Gabe of his sister-in-law.
What little appetite he’d had fled.
“What’s the matter?” Cissy asked after the waitress left.
“Nothing.”
