Wide blue eyes took him in—fist raised, bare-chested, beard-stubbled, and wearing only a pair of boxers decorated with cartoon characters—and she let out a rich chuckle.
“Well, I would say Sarah finally struck gold after way too much brass, but if you’re sleeping on the couch, handsome, she’s obviously still missing the train!”
THREE
Margo James was a redhead like Sarah, but all resemblance stopped there. She was tall and voluptuous, her gestures and movements were quick and almost birdlike, and she talked with blunt, brisk cheerfulness, contentedly misusing words and mixing metaphors right and left.
Tucker had plenty of time to observe all these traits when he had returned from his quick retreat to shower, shave, and dress, because Margo insisted on fixing breakfast, telling him that Sarah always slept till nine at least.
“I’m the early bird, and she’s the bat.”
Tucker stopped himself from wincing. “You mean the night owl?”
Margo waved a spatula. “Yeah, right. It’s amazing that we get along so well. We’re really as different as afternoon and morning. Take our antiques, for instance. Sarah has a real feeling for what’s genuine but doesn’t have a clue how things should be priced, whereas I know the value of a thing down to the penny—but can be fooled by a fake really easily.”
“Sounds like you two are perfect partners,” Tucker commented, cautiously sipping coffee that was very, very strong and had a shot at holding a spoon upright in the cup.
“Yeah, it’s been great. Hey, I fed that cat she’s adopted and let him out. He seemed to want out.”
“I was supposed to let him out last night,” Tucker admitted, “but he disappeared on me.”
Margo shrugged. “Maybe he slept in Sarah’s room. She told me he does that sometimes.”
Tucker wondered when, in that case, Sarah had let the cat out of her room, but it didn’t seem important enough to worry about.
In a lightning change of mood, Margo said with sudden gravity, “Jeez, I was sorry to hear about Sarah’s house. She loved that place, poured her heart into restoring it.”
“How did you hear about it?” he asked casually.
“On TV—the news last night. That’s why I came back ahead of schedule, of course, even though she didn’t call me. Maybe especially because she didn’t call me. I know Sarah. She’s as strong as bronze—”
“Steel,” Tucker murmured, unable to stop himself.
“Yeah, steel. Strong as steel, thinks she can handle anything and everything on her own—but she’s had a fairly bad year, and I just don’t know how much more she can take. First that damned mugging, and then David—” Her gaze cut swiftly to Tucker. “You know about David?”
He nodded without comment.
Margo was obviously still trying to size up the relationship since Tucker had introduced himself only by name, and was clearly disappointed that he didn’t react in some dramatic way to mention of the last man in Sarah’s life.
“Yeah, well. First we find out the bastard was not one of your basic in-sickness-and-in-health guys when she got hurt; he could barely bring himself to visit her every couple of days, for Christ’s sake, and made it screamingly obvious he wanted to be someplace else when he did show up. Then, when she finally comes out of the coma…”
“Able to see the future?” Tucker supplied when her voice trailed off.
She grimaced. “Yeah. I didn’t know if you knew.”
Again, he nodded without comment.
Margo flipped a fried egg—the fifth so far, with two more still in the pan—onto a plate on the counter beside the stove, and Tucker was mildly tempted to ask how many people she planned to feed. But he didn’t want her to be distracted from the subject at hand.
“She really can do it,” Margo said, defending her friend staunchly. “It scared the hell out of her at first—still does, I guess. Well, wouldn’t it you?”
“Definitely.”
Margo nodded. “Yeah, me too. In fact—Well, never mind that. The point is that Sarah’s life has been hell this year. And now the house…jeez. The news said the cops suspected arson?”
“So I understand.” He didn’t mention the stranger who might still be outside watching; he hadn’t been able to casually look out a window without drawing her attention, and he wasn’t sure how much—if anything—Margo knew.
“That means the insurance won’t pay off for ages,” she said in a practical spirit. “Damn. She can stay here as long as necessary, of course—this place is half hers—but it would be a lot better if she could concentrate on rebuilding right away. With everything at fives and sixes like this, she’ll have way too much time to think about…stuff.”
Tucker didn’t bother to correct her. “About what happened to David…?” he probed, wondering whether she knew that Sarah’s latest prediction supposedly concerned her own death.