Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“I’ve been hunted by the police first and then you, like some animal. How long have you known this? You said not one word to me about it on the phone. When did you realize I’m not the person you tried to say I was?”
“First of all, Mr. Wanna-Be-Alan-Shore with your sharp shooting allegations, I never said you were definitely the person responsible for these murders, or the person responsible for any other crimes. I told you that you were on the suspect list, a person of interest, which you already knew so it wasn’t like some big secret. Secondly, you also knew I wasn’t ruling you out—or in—until I had enough information to do so. I was upfront with you. I’m allowed to tell you, after speaking with the police, that you’ve been officially eliminated. I’d like some juice now, preferably cranberry, but if you don’t have that, OJ is fine. I think my blood sugar is low.”
“Blood sugar? Well how about my blood pressure, huh? It’s been high on account of you. I don’t even get an apology?” he asked with a smirk, knowing full well she’d never oblige.
“No. Absolutely not. Now give me that juice before I pass out.”
He laughed lightly, then slowly rose to his feet and made his way to the kitchen. As he was pouring her a glass of apple juice—since that was all he had—he heard the doorbell ring. He quickly retreated from the kitchen, handed her the juice, and jogged to the front door. DoorDash. He took the food, thanked the driver, and slid him an extra tip.
When he closed the door, he was surprised to see that Porsche was up and about. She’d also removed her boots and moved around like a slinking cat on her black nylon-covered feet. Holding onto her glass of apple juice, she scanned the room, including the framed photos scattered here and there, mostly of family, including the two family pets from his childhood: Cloudy, the cocker spaniel, and Butter, the golden retriever.
He placed the food on the dining room table and took some time to watch her. On occasion as she looked at a picture, her eyes would light up. At other times, she’d crack a halfcocked smile. He imagined her emotions were genuine as she studied the smiling faces of him and his brothers as children, his parents’ wedding photo, and him standing proudly in his football attire when he played for the Portland Vikings. She picked up the picture from a shelf, then turned to face him.
“…Sorry. I know dinner arrived, but I was so caught up. Football.” She waved the photo around. “You attended college? Yeah… but for what?”
“What does that mean, ‘for what?’ Just one year… it wasn’t for me. Playing was fun, though. I liked it. Why wouldn’t you know about that if you’re such a great investigator?”
“Never said I was a great investigator. I said I was a great cop. I’m a good investigator, and getting better every day.” She winked at him. “Anyway…” She set the photograph back down. “Of course I knew you were in college, but that’s not exactly what I asked you. What was your major? That’s why I asked you for what.”
“Logistics, materials and supply chain management.”
Her eyebrow arched as she leaned against the wall. Then she nodded in approval before taking a sip of her juice.
“…Come sit down. Our food is getting cold.”
So she sat across from him as they talked and laughed, shared stories, and drank the wine he’d bought just for their dinner.
‘Something,’ by the Beatles, started to play.
“How long has it been since you’ve invited someone over to dinner? A woman?” she quickly clarified, beating him to the punch to skate under the radar.
He slipped his fingers beneath a piece of flatbread known as lahmacun, cut into triangular pizza-styled slices, and took a bite. The flavors of the peppers, minced meat and parsley were a delight to his taste buds.
“It’s been a while. I don’t bring people over often,” he answered between bites.
“Why’s that? You have a stunning home.” She looked around before sinking her teeth into the spinach and feta cheese börek. “Seems like you’d want to at least show it off.”
He took another bite of his food, then rested his eyes on the woman in front of him. She was always searching, always asking questions to life’s unknowns. Perhaps that was the reason why such a beautiful, intelligent, and accomplished woman was not in a relationship? Certainly a less confident man would grow weary of such drilling.
“I have no real longing to show off anything. I don’t see the point in that. What I enjoy,” he quickly swallowed another mouthful of food, “and what’s for me is private, unless I choose to share it. If I share it with someone else, that means I think they might enjoy it, too, and that I like them on some level.”