“Thinking about you.”
“Nice things?” Bennie snuggled down in the sheets, liking the sound of it. She didn’t know if this call would lead to phone sex, but there were worse ways to blow off steam. And phone sex was the best of both worlds. You got the sex but didn’t have to share the bed.
“I was thinking you should let Mary go out on her own.”
“Way to kill the mood.”
“Sorry but I’m on fire.”
“So am I.” Bennie chuckled, but Declan didn’t.
“I’ve been thinking about it. What was it like when you went back? Did she need you?”
“I’m not sure that she needed me, but she was happy that I was there to help.”
“How did she do at the Roundhouse by herself?”
“Very well. Great, in fact.”
“That’s my point. She’s a fine lawyer. She has to find it out for herself.”
“I know that, and she will. I’m just helping her.” Bennie didn’t get it. Declan usually didn’t care about office politics. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m bothered.”
“Why?”
“I think she’s too used to turning to you. She’s used to you filling the gap. If she wants to go out on her own, let her go. You’ll be fine.”
“Do we have to talk about this now?”
“Why not? It’s important.”
“It’s late at night.” Bennie was trying to get her mojo back.
“I’m not sleepy.”
“I’m not either.”
“I don’t like you being taken advantage of. Mary’s taking advantage of you.”
“No, she’s not,” Bennie said, defensive.
“Yes, she is. You like her, so you don’t see it.”
“I thought you liked her, too.”
“I do. But I think you should let her move on. I wouldn’t keep a partner who wasn’t committed to me.”
“She’s committed to me.”
“How can you say that?” Declan kept his tone even, but he sounded annoyed. “She junked the partnership to represent a friend.”
“That’s not true.”
“Babe. What’s the status of your partnership?”
“We tabled it for now.”
“Junked.”
“Tabled isn’t the same as junked.”
Declan snorted. “Same difference. Either way, you’re left hanging. She just can’t come and go when she pleases. One day she’s in, one day she’s not. On her terms. She should have to fish or cut bait. That’s what you want in a partner. Commitment.”
Suddenly Bennie wasn’t sure they were talking about Mary anymore. “Declan, is this about us?”
“Maybe,” Declan answered after a minute.
“Really?” Bennie felt a tug in her chest. “I thought everything was going so great. We had such a good day.”
“You dropped in, out of the blue. You said you were staying the weekend, then you left. Maybe it was a good day for you. It wasn’t such a good day for me.”
“Wow, really.” Bennie didn’t know what to say. He was right, which made it worse.
“Long-distance gets old, babe. Today didn’t help. I miss you. It was nice having you here. I’m unhappy you left. I don’t like sleeping alone.”
Sometimes I do, Bennie thought but didn’t say. “Declan, do we really need to talk about our relationship now?”
“Why not? You said you weren’t tired.”
“I’m too tired to talk about our relationship. I’m not too tired to talk about anything else.” Bennie was trying to lighten the mood.
“I guess it bugs me.” Declan’s tone softened. “I dropped everything when you said you were coming. Canceled two conference calls.”
“I didn’t know that. You said you weren’t busy. You told me to come ahead.”
“I thought you were staying.”
Bennie sighed, suddenly exhausted. She’d thought she was kidding about being too tired to talk about their relationship, but now it was true. “Look, I’m sorry.”
“Let’s get some sleep.”
“That’s a good idea. Love you.”
“You, too,” Declan said, hanging up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
TOMAHAWK COUNTRY CLUB read the bronze letters in a stone wall, and Mary drove onto the property with Bennie in the passenger seat. They were both in lightweight suits, which was the only thing they had in common. Boring clothes.
“People love golf,” Bennie said idly.
“Have you ever played?”
“No, I row. It’s the sport that’s the most like work.”
Mary smiled. She liked when Bennie was self-deprecating, which wasn’t often. In contrast, Mary herself raised self-deprecation to an art form. And liked it that way, frankly. “I never golfed in my life. I’m from South Philly.”
Bennie smiled, and they pulled up at a stone gatehouse, where an older guard opened a small window. “Good morning,” he said with a smile.
Mary introduced them both, then said, “We’re here to see the crime scene. The police are expecting us.”
“Fine.” The guard tsked-tsked. “Such a terrible shame about Mr. Eddington. We all liked him. Nothing like that ever happened here before. Everybody’s upset. Members and muckety-mucks, you know.”
“I’m sure. And I know Todd loved it here. Every Friday night he was here, no matter what, right?”
“Yes.” The guard nodded. “Like clockwork.”
“Did he usually come with anyone?”
“Usually alone. He met his foursome if he played in the morning.”
“His usual foursome? Guys from the office?” Mary took a flyer. “Like Ernie or Ray Matewicz?”
“Don’t know those names.” The guard shook his head. “I think he golfed with customers mostly. Mr. Davis, Mr. Cullen, Mr. Nustrall. Mr. Gallagher used to join but not lately. That’s who I remember. They’ll miss him.”
Mary made a mental note of the names. “Were you here last night, the night he was killed? Did you see him come in?”
“No, that’s not my shift. I’m off at four.”
“Oh, who’s shift is it?”
“The police already asked me that.” The guard frowned. “Hey, did you say you were with the police?”
“Not exactly, thanks,” Mary said, hitting the gas. “Take care now.”
“Well done.” Bennie smiled as they drove off.
“Thanks. Can’t blame a girl for asking, right?”
“Exactly.” They both laughed, and Mary steered up a winding asphalt driveway that bisected an immense front lawn, its grass so uniformly short and green that it could’ve been Astroturf. It was a beautiful day, the sun climbing a cloudless blue sky and in another mood, she would’ve felt good. They approached a large putting green on the left, where golfers practiced in complete absorption, their heads down.
Bennie looked around. “This will be a different kind of crime scene.”
“I know. It’s hard to believe somebody was killed here.” Mary drove them past a lovely Tudor mansion of gray stone with hatched windows and a gabled slate roof. A quaint wooden sign identified it as the clubhouse, and golfers were coming in and out in groups, talking and laughing.
“The parking lot’s around the back,” Bennie said.
“How do you know?”
“I Google-mapped it.”
Mary looked over, surprised. “That was a good idea. I should’ve thought of that.”