"I'm eternally in your debt."
"Absolutely."
Two minutes later they were heading out, planning to swing by David's apartment so he could grab some fresh clothes and Elise could pick up her car.
Or at least they appeared to be heading out until Elise pulled open the front door. If she'd made any tracks, she would have frozen in them.
David bumped into her, halted, and peered over the top of her head.
Standing on the step was a tidy man in khaki pants and a white polo shirt. Next to him was a girl of about thirteen, headphones around her neck, a panda backpack, a stuffed elephant tucked under one arm, and a portable CD player in her hand.
Audrey. Elise's daughter. David had met her once. No, twice. The biggest resemblance between mother and daughter was a certain air of suspicion.
In direct contrast to David's wrinkled T-shirt, old jeans, and unshaved face, the people before them looked as if they'd stepped out of a department store ad. Their clothes were fresh and crisp and new. Audrey's strategically scuffed jeans were expensive, and her sparkling white jogging shoes had never been jogging-
Elise let out a little gasp, sounding like someone who'd just remembered she'd left a burner going after the plane had taken off.
"Audrey!" She inhaled. "Thomas."
The man's gaze shifted from Elise to David. And locked there. "Did you forget Audrey was coming today?" he asked, his voice vague and perplexed, his brows drawn together in puzzlement as, with reluctance, he forced himself to break away from David to focus on Elise.
David was fascinated. So this was Elise's ex-husband. God. No wonder she'd left him. Which brought up the question, what had she ever seen in him in the first place?
David couldn't quit staring.
The guy was almost pretty, but Elise didn't seem the type to be taken in by a pretty face.
And then there was Audrey…
Thirteen. David did some quick mental math. Elise would have had her when she was about seventeen or eighteen. A vulnerable age. A foolish age. He knew about such things.
"I didn't forget," Elise said quickly. "Of course I didn't forget."
As she talked, Thomas' gaze kept drifting back to David.
He thinks Elise and I are having sex, David realized.
That was funny as hell. If Elise's daughter hadn't been standing there, David would have played it up a little. Instead, he laid everything out, plain and concisely. "This-" David pointed a finger at himself, then at Elise, then back again. "Strictly business."
Elise had been so flustered over forgetting her daughter's visit that she hadn't caught Thomas' reaction to David. Now she jumped in to add her own version, introducing her partner.
"But it's not even seven o'clock," Thomas pointed out, clearly still suspicious. "And where's your car? I didn't see your car when we pulled up. It hasn't been stolen, has it? I told you this neighborhood was rough. Every time I see the crime map in the Savannah Morning News, the Historic District is loaded with burglaries and assaults."
"My car is fine."
Would she tell them what had happened? David wondered. Would she explain why he was there and why her car was at his place?
"We've been working on this case…," Elise said.
Thomas frowned, studying her face. "You look exhausted. I thought you were going to slow down."
"I know, I know. It's just that we have this… situation-"
"There's always a case. Always a situation."
The disapproval was gone. The suspicion was gone. The only thing left was concern.
Why, the guy still loves her, David realized. He doesn't get her, but he loves her. David's opinion of Thomas did an about-face.
"What happened to your hand?" Thomas asked.
"I cut it." Elise tucked the hand behind her. "It's nothing."
"Is the case the voodoo, zombie thing?" Audrey asked. Her eyes were huge.
"It's not voodoo," Elise said. "And there are no zombies."
"Kids at school said somebody is turning people into zombies." "That's not true."
David jumped in, hoping to back her up. "Absolutely not true," he said, shaking his head.
"Yesterday, a girl fainted in PE class, and everybody freaked out. They said she was a zombie. And now boys are going around putting fingers to their wrists, screaming, 'I have no pulse! I have no pulse!'"
"That's enough, Audrey," Thomas broke in. "You know what I told you earlier."
Audrey's brief moment of animation ended. "Sorry, Dad," she said, her shoulders slumping.
"Where are you off to now?" Thomas asked Elise.
"Headquarters."
Audrey let out a low, I'm-already-bored groan.
"You can come too," Elise told her daughter with that kind of mock enthusiasm mothers used when they knew the kid wanted nothing to do with what was being offered. "We'll pick up some Krispy Kremes on the way. You love those. We'll have a breakfast picnic in the cemetery."
As they stood on the porch, the vile stench of the pulp mill wafted in their direction, the stink permeating David's sinuses. He'd heard that years ago the fumes had actually eaten paint off cars. Just another one of those lovely Savannah rumors nobody could seem to substantiate.
"I don't want to go to the police station." Audrey looked up at her father with pleading eyes. "Do I have to?"
"Audrey-"
"Dad." She twisted her feet to stand on the sides of her shoes. "Please?"
She stared at him, as if trying to communicate tele-pathically. When that failed to get any response, she was forced to say the words aloud, whispered through gritted teeth. "Remember what you told me at the house?"
It was suddenly embarrassingly obvious that the child hadn't wanted to visit her mother in the first place. That she'd come only because her father had made her.
David stood just behind Elise and to her right. He couldn't see her face, but he could feel her stillness.
He put a hand to her shoulder. Thomas followed the movement with his eyes and stared. David dropped his hand.
"Another time would be better," Thomas said. "When things are slower."
Audrey's body relaxed, and her face lit up. She shot her father a look of gratitude.
"You're probably right," Elise said woodenly. "When things are slower."
"I'll call you." Thomas reached for Audrey. "Let's go, honey. So your mom can get to work."
Audrey spun around and began to walk away, her panda bear backpack bobbing. They were halfway up the sidewalk when Thomas bent his head toward her and said something. Audrey turned and gave a big wave. "Bye, Mom." And then to David, "Bye, Mr. Gould!"
She turned and caught up with her dad, then passed him, galloping to the white SUV parked at the curb.
Elise stared at the vehicle as it pulled away. "A stay of execution."
"She probably wanted to do something with friends," David said, searching for a fragment of truth that might make her feel better. "Friends are more important than family at her age. Family doesn't even count."
Elise didn't answer. Instead, she turned and locked the door behind them.
He hoped she wasn't going to cry.
He hated it when women cried. It made him feel useless. And it hurt. He didn't like to hurt.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!" he shouted as soon as he reached the street and saw his car.