Sutter pulled her inside. “Water for our tea is almost boiled. He said you’d be here soon.”
“That’s why you kept calling even when I didn’t call back.”
“I kept calling you because you’re my best friend, and you were in misery.” Sutter put Max on the couch. Bright colors, the fragrance of herbal tea, and clutter filled Sutter’s living room. Sutter clutter, Cameron had called it.
Cameron had said if she wasn’t careful she’d start judging every relationship by what she got out of it. Just like Bud. What she got from Sutter was something Bud Traynor would never understand.
Sutter loved her. Witt loved her. Cameron loved her. Two hours ago, so much love might have suffocated her. Now...
“I always knew you’d call me one day. When you were ready.”
“I love you, Sutter.” The words burst from her lips.
“I know you do, sweetie.” Sutter patted her cheek as if she had no idea of the magnitude of the moment, but the mistiness in her eyes betrayed her. “Sit and tell me all. It’s been a long time.”
Sutter plopped down on the sofa, brushed aside a burnished lock that had fallen across her eyes. Hot pink flamingo slippers, long necks listing to the right, covered the feet of her fuzzy pink and white polka dot pajamas. Only Sutter.
Max didn’t have the same confidence in herself that Sutter had. Without Cameron’s prodding, she’d never have seen Sutter again.
Sutter’s gift was seeing ghosts, not mind reading, but emotion obviously showed on Max’s face, enough for Sutter to say, “Don’t be angry with him.”
“He was here, wasn’t he?” Max thought she could still smell his peppermints.
Sutter nodded.
Max should have been considering the lies Cameron had told her, the things he’d kept from her. She’d only scratched the surface. But no, she wasn’t angry. Anger was something you directed at the living, not the dead. Whatever he’d kept from her had been part of the larger plan. Not Bud Traynor’s plan, but God’s plan. Maybe she could start believing in Him again.
The fluffy cushions of the flowered sofa enveloped her as easily as Sutter’s warmth did. A whistle shrilled in the kitchen. Sutter popped up, returned minutes later with two steaming mugs. “Sleepy Time. It’ll help you relax.”
Sutter handed her one, waiting for Max to sip before she flopped back down.
Max couldn’t move either, the sofa, the comfort, friendship, and warm tea in her stomach nibbling at the edges of exhaustion. “I wanted to bring back the 4Runner.”
Sutter sat with her back in the corner, pulled a pillow onto her lap, and set the mug on top of it. “Is it over?”
“Yes. How much did Cameron tell you?”
“Enough so I’d know to be here when you needed me. He cares about you. Are you going to tell me the rest?”
Max rolled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Stop that.” Sutter pounced on the nervous action. “It always means you’re trying to find a way out of whatever it is.”
Max smiled, barely more than a flexing of a muscle. “Not this time. It means I’m thinking about when I’m going to tell you.”
“How about telling me everything right now?”
Max wrapped her hands around her mug and closed her eyes to savor the fragrant steam. “I think it’s a story for a rainy afternoon. Not for a night when I don’t want to think anymore.”
Sutter pursed her lips, then softened the line with a smile. “All right, you win.”
Max closed her eyes, letting steam and the scent of herbs go to her head. Then she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her. Her knees poked from the tears in her tights. She pulled a blanket off the back of the couch to cover herself. She really should go, get back to Witt’s house.
“Your friend stopped by earlier looking for you.”
Witt?
“The cute reporter,” Sutter answered the look on Max’s face.
Riley Morgan. Again. Well, at least he’d followed Sutter and not her. “What did he want?”
Sutter spread a hand and shrugged, mouth in a smile. “My slippers scared him off.” She put a finger to her lips and looked to the ceiling. “Or maybe it was when I invited him in for hot sex.”
Max’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t.”
But yes, Sutter would. “He was too damn adorable to resist.”
“Sort of reminds you of some statue of a Greek God.” Max had to agree about the good-looking part, but hard to resist? Sutter hadn’t met Witt yet. “He’s just a kid.”
Sutter’s lashes drooped. “Oh, I don’t think so.” She wriggled in her seat, no question about her meaning.
“He didn’t have much of a sense of humor, though,” Sutter acknowledged. “Thought I ought to shake him up.”
“Well, he ran away to my apartment. He was waiting outside when I drove by.”
Sutter turned serious, a frown creasing her forehead. “He was asking about a bunch of murders.”
“He managed a few questions before you propositioned him.”