“Cali. My name’s Cali McKay.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cali.” He grinned in that devilish way men do. Or the way some men do. Actually, very few she’d met had such a kiss-me grin.
“Thanks for having dinner with me.”
Her stomach did the flip thing again. He handed her a fortune cookie. She looked down at the plastic-wrapped cookie in her palm. “I’m scared to open it. I haven’t had what anyone would call good luck lately.”
“Maybe it’s about to change.” He opened his own cookie.
She watched him silently read it. “What does it say?”
He looked up, then down at the slip of white paper again. “It says... ‘Stop being a dickhead, Dickhead.’”
She laughed. His blue-green gaze locked on her and she suddenly felt too warm, too crowded. Scooting over a few mattress inches, she opened her own cookie. The crackle of plastic echoed in the silent room.
“And?” Humor still danced in his eyes.
She tried to think of something funny to say, but it didn’t come, so she just read it. “Listen to your dreams.” The message vibrated through her head. Just what she needed, a little doubt. No, not doubt. She believed Dr. Roberts. Her dreams were just—
“Nothing about me being a dickhead, huh?”
“Nothing.” She grinned and stacked the empty containers.
“I’m really not a dickhead. Not normally.”
She remembered what the doctor said about her being attracted to the wrong type of men. The silence grew loud again.
“What did your fortune cookie really say?” she asked.
“What? You don’t think they’d say dickhead in a fortune cookie?” He picked up the slip of paper and read. “Don’t pass up the next opportunity.” His gaze moved to her mouth.
Cali got up and carried the empty containers to the small waste basket. “Thanks for dinner,” she said, remembering he’d refused to let her pay again. Wringing her hands, she tried to figure out how to suggest he leave.
“You’re welcome.” He studied her. “I need to ask you some questions about Stan,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.
She continued to stand in the middle of the room. “You can ask, but when I filled out the report, I told the other officer all I know.”
“I’d still like to hear it.” He crossed his legs at his ankles, perfectly comfortable in her bed.
“Okay.” She remembered the bracelet. “Did you find out if the bracelet was really from the jewelry store?”
“It’s being checked by the distributor. But we’re pretty sure it is.” He rubbed his shoulder. “Where did you meet Stan?”
She didn’t see how this was important to the case. “At the coffee shop near my apartment. I’d seen him there before. One day I was digging in my purse for some change to pay for my coffee, and he came up and paid it for me. He asked if he could join me. The shop was crowded and no more seats were available. It seemed rude to say no, so I said yes. He was there most days when I showed up, so we sat together. He seemed nice, or at least he did at first. I was…my mom was dying.” She felt the grief tighten her chest. “I guess I needed someone to talk to. About a month later, he asked me out.”
Brit sat there just listening.
She remembered that he thought she was the type of woman who got off being a victim. And while he might be partially right—she might run from conflict and try too hard to be nice—she refused to believe she’d really allow a man to abuse her.
“I needed to forget about my problems, so I went out with him. A few days later, I had car trouble and he drove me to my mom’s, and even fixed my car for me. Before I knew it, he told me he was having problems with his roommate, and his new apartment was supposed to be ready in a week or so. Mom’s health started going downhill really quickly, and I wasn’t even at my apartment most of the time, so I told him he could just stay there. Then she died and I realized he’d been there for almost a month.”
Brit continued to study her but didn’t say anything, and nervous at what he might think of her, she kept talking. “He never came across like someone who would rob a store,” she added. “He was even nice most of the time.”
“Unlike me,” he said and frowned.
Chapter Sixteen
“I’m not going to disagree with you, if that’s what you think.” She grinned.
He chuckled, then settled back against the wall. “Besides the band members, do you know any other of his friends or family?”
“No. He said he hadn’t been in town long. Said his family was from Oklahoma. That his parents had passed. He said the band was about to get a record deal with some small recording studio in town.”
“Did he ever mention any other girlfriends?”